


Markiplier x Reader

by Lumanom



Category: markiplier - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Kissing, Kissing in the Rain, Love, Love Confessions, Love/Hate, Male-Female Friendship, Neck Kissing, Reader-Insert, Romantic Friendship, YouTube
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-05-02 02:39:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 31,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5230733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumanom/pseuds/Lumanom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're a hired photographer for a gaming event in London. He's just there to meet his fans.<br/>Sure, he's extremely enticing in that flannel shirt of his, but you're not really interested... are you?<br/>Hell, one thing's for sure, he's going to be way to busy to notice you.  Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

The gum you were absentmindedly chewing was starting to become extremely tasteless and rubbery in your mouth, and you looked up from your notebook to see if there was a trashcan nearby. There wasn’t - or, at least, you couldn’t see one. Though, this venue was pretty damn big, there was probably one somewhere.

Shrugging, you went back to making notes hastily into your small book. Places you had to make sure you were, and at which times, for this year's Eurogamer Expo. Being one of the photographers hired to document the UK’s largest gaming event, you had to be precise with your work and timings. The Fallout 4 booth was probably going to be incredibly popular, and it may be worth getting there before people arrive, just to get a few ‘clean’ shots. You scribbled down further notes.

Eurogamer, this year, had done something that they normally don’t push at their yearly events - gaming YouTubers. Sure, it was good and well pulling in fans and customers to play games before their release, but there was a whole other demographic of audiences that want to meet the people who will play those games. If they can pull in double the attendees, who in turn will buy more of the expensive merchandise, then they will.

You crossed your legs and tucked them beneath the bench you were perched on, quickly ending your last note about booths to attend. YouTubers were going to be an important factor, and you might even get a bonus if you got good pictures of them. A grin worked its way to your lips - and you were reminded of the tasteless gum that was sitting idle against your cheek. 

Groaning, you decided that you really needed to find a bin.


	2. Chapter 2

You stood quietly and studied the ‘YouTube’ section with caution. There were a good dozen or so blank looking booths - just tables and white-draped chairs, really - for the Youtubes to sit at when they arrived. You were sure that some of them would be glad that a hunk of wood be separating them from their rabid fans. Frowning, you sat at one of the empty booths to take a look through the photos you’d already snapped with your chunky black DSLR. From the corner of your eye, you could see a member of the expo staff give you a weary look - surely it was obvious that you weren’t here as a YouTuber, so you chuckled to yourself as you deleted an accidentally blurry image.

In all honesty, you did watch a few YouTubers. Only a handful, really. One or two Fail and Vine compilation channels, Vsauce, Markiplier, maybe a little KSI, or his little brother CSG. You only ever used YouTube as background sounds for your writing or anything else you fancied doing at home, so it never really became a big part of your life. As an avid gamer, though, there were a few videos you did turn your attention to and watch. You had a heck of a time watching Markiplier battle his way through the Five Nights at Freddy’s franchise, and Layers of Fear - never would you play those kind of games, but watching someone else play them, you could handle that.

You glanced at your watch. 8:30am. Around about the time the booth attendees start setting up. Just as you were pondering their arrival, a gaggle of rather loud people started meandering in your direction, so you stood up so they could find their places, assuming they were the alleged YouTubers. You tried to see if you could recognise any of them, but they were all pretty rushed - since the doors did open to the public at 9am. You smiled as they then split ways to their respective booths. A cackle of laughter approached you, followed by a deeper, throatier laugh. You stepped aside as a pair took two of the booths next to each other. Jacksepticeye, and the pink-hair donning, flannel wearing Markiplier.

“Seán, Mark,” you greeted the duo, professionally, as they arrived and started to look at you wearily, “sorry for being in your spot, I had to sit for a while to go through photos,” you waved the DSLR around cautiously, and they still looked confused, “hired event photographer, y’see.”

Seán perked up and grinned, “oh awesome, can you getta picture of me n’ Mark?”

“Uh, not pictures like that, ones of the event-”

“Ohh, c’mon girly, just one picture!” The Irish man cooed, winding an arm around his oddly quiet friends neck, playfully, the man stiffy leant into the hug, “it’ll be alright!”

Rolling your eyes, you brought the camera up to your eye and peered through the viewfinder, centering the duo and snapping a few quick pictures of them both. You couldn’t help but glance at Mark whilst peering through the lense, his eyes were gleaming, but his demeanour looked slightly… intimidated? Quickly, you pulled the camera away and showed them the pictures. The Irish man whooped and cooed at them, announcing that you should send them to him via Twitter, before turning to his booth and emptying a box of merch and such onto its white surface.

“Sorry, I’ll be out of your way,” you apologised, moving away from the booth so Mark could start emptying out his own box of stuff. He still said nothing, but smiled at you quickly before tearing his gaze back down to his box, working at getting it open. Your smiled faltered slightly and your heart fluttered a few times. Either he was shy or he was being a jerk.

“Alright then, see you later,” you mused quietly, voice a little lackluster with annoyance, “don’t get too swamped.”

There were a few food shops dotted around the perimeter of the venue, and you thought it right time to grab a coffee or something similar. As you walked away, you could hear the brash Jacksepticeye laughing and cackling again, speaking with a voice so high pitched that Markiplier and a few of the other YouTubers were laughing too, though at him instead of with him. Though, as you moved further away from the only current source of noise within the whole events hall, you couldn’t help but feel Mark was being rude to you on purpose.


	3. Chapter 3

“What is his deal?” You mumbled, mainly to yourself, as you suspiciously eyed the pink haired man whilst he posed for selfies, with a hoard of fangirls on the far side of the expo, “he doesn’t look angry. Actually he looks pretty damn happy!”

“Jeez, , let it go,” your colleague, Sam, mumbled irritably from beside you, with some of her sandwich barely in her mouth. She chewed a little and carried on, “he’s a busy man, y’know. Was probably all caught up getting himself psyched for the event or something.”

You gritted your teeth and turned back to the face your fellow photographer, staring down at the swirling dark coffee and your own half-eaten sandwich sitting on a china plate beside it. You couldn’t help but let the matter bother you. He was clearly being cold to you and only you, otherwise he wouldn’t seem so enthusiastic towards Jacksepticeye, or the hundreds of people he was currently being swarmed by.

Looking back over to the man in the distance, you brought the hot caffeinated drink up to your lips and let its heat warm your face slightly. Taking a sip, you looked up at Sam, who had finished shovelling her sandwich into her face, and was now gulping back some water.

“Thirsty?” You laughed, taking another quick sip of your hot drink.

She stuck her tongue out at you playfully, before setting her drink aside and pulling up the camera she had hung around her neck, “how many pictures of the 2K stands did you take?” She asked, as she fiddled with the camera's large lenses.

“A few dozen. Enough to please Spock.”

Spock, was your boss. Of course, Spock wasn’t his actual name, but was what you and a few of your colleagues affectionately called him - because he was spitting image of the fictional Star Trek character, with slicked down, precisely cut hair and abnormally pointy ears. The man was fairly old, and you were all convinced that he dyed his hair, as a man his age couldn’t possibly have hair that black - Sam was even convinced it was a wig.

“Oh hey look, you’re favourite guy’s coming over.”

You looked up, to see Sam staring out to your left, and you twisted on the spot to see the flannel-donning, pink haired man striding in your direction with a determined look draped across his entire demeanour. Frowning, you turned back to the table and started fiddling with the settings on your camera.

“Pretty sure he’s just moving to a different spot to speak to fans. Deffo not comin’ this way,” you said under your breath, not really able to find the energy to bother worrying about some confusing man.

Sam laughed, “uh, nope, he’s definitely coming here.”

You were about to roll your eyes at her, but as you glanced around, the man had indeed gotten rather close, and was about a few metres away, on the other side of the glass café dividers. He quickly sent you a hesitant wave as your eyes grazed him over. He looked as if he was about to say something, but a group of a dozen or so teenagers then caught up to him, crowding around him. His attention was then turned to them, and you frowned. He seemed to instantly perk up and loosen himself a little, grinning and laughing with the girls as they cooed at him.

“Guy’s reeeal weird,” you mumbled slowly, turning to face away from him. Sam pouted at you as you continued, “he’s clearly just being a… a pleb. I mean, he gave me the cold shoulder when I first met him, and he’s obviously not that intent on apologising the second his ditsy fans come into the picture. He looks happier now they’re there for him to pay attention to.”

“Calm down, girl,” Sam chuckled, “you’re a fan as well, remember?”

You jerked a thumb in the laughing mans’ direction, “yeah, but I don’t get reactions like that.”

She shrugged a response, “maybe you’ve not met under the right circumstances. You know he’s a good guy. Got a lot on his plate, I’m sure.”

A few thoughts twisted and turned in your mind as you watched the beaming man sign pictures for his fans. They all looked red-faced and ecstatic to see him, and there were even a couple of broody looking girls who were probably trying to get him to ‘notice’ them by acting like they didn’t care. A laugh bubbled up from your throat, though it dissipated almost as soon as it arose.

“Go take pictures,” Sam said suddenly, and you almost lost it. A cackle escaped your mouth and you looked at your friend, she spoke through a smile, “I’m serious! Might even be able to talk to him properly. Don’t forget your badge, or those girls might think you’re just some chick with a camera.

You stood up from the table and hoisted the expensive camera around your neck on its lanyard, twisting your ID so it faced the right direction.

“Oh, but my dearest Samantha, I am just a chick with a camera!”

Both laughing, you stepped away from the table, slinging your small bag over your shoulder. Walking the perimeter of the indoors café, you started over to the man with the booming laugh and all the young girls who were fawning over him. It looked almost surreal to an outsider that had a little more sense than these girls. 

“Pictures. For the website and the paper,” you announced as you approached, flashing the ID tag that hung from the same lanyard as the camera, “won’t be here too long so if you want a few pictures, best get in now.”  
The girls all cooed and yelped, squeezing as close to the man as possible. You squeezed an eye shut and peered through the viewfinder, seeing that his own eyes were almost pleading to you as you tapped the shutter a few times. You pulled away from the camera for a moment to make eye contact with him, before pressing your face back against the camera. For a moment, you could have swore you saw a small smile behind that face which screamed, ‘good lord, get these tweens away from me’.

After a few more pictures where the girls pretty much clung from the man's neck and draped themselves wherever they could, you announced that you had enough pictures, and that the girls should check the website after the event weekend was over. They all squealed together and waved their goodbyes to Mark, before shuffling away in a huddle. You sent the man a small smile before turning on the spot and walking to get back to your coffee. The sight of Sam in hysterics at her seat made a smile break out across your face.

“Oh that poor man!” She laughed, as you got closer, “you’re so goddamn mean!”

“Hey!” You responded, leaning over the glass panel, “it was your idea!”

Sam went to smile but instead pressed her lips together, looking past you. A lump formed in your throat as a hand tapped your shoulder a few times. You turned to see Mark standing behind you, a smile spreading across his face, you stuttered a hello. Why was your heart pounding so much? And how come the cologne that gently wafted into the scene as Mark moved closer smelled so damn nice?

“Hey,” he responded, motioning behind him, “that was totally cool of you to offer to take pictures of those girls, with me.”

You shrugged, playing it off, “part of my job description, no problem,” you smiled warmly at him, and you heard Sam snicker behind you. She knew you were trying to be cool.

“So, I was wondering, did you want to, uh, spend lunch with me and Seán? I’m sure you could get a bunch more pictures, too. I’m also doing a live playing of five nights later, if you want to attend? You know, for more pictures.”

“Huh,” you said with a smile, in disbelief, “yeah sure, why not!”

“Right, good - great,” he said, a toothy grin revealing itself, he turned his attention to Sam, who was all ears, “do you - do you work at the same place as, oh…”

“[y/n],” you suggested, smiling, then motioning to your friend, “and, this is Sam. Yeah, we work for the same company.”

Mark perked up at the sound of your name, “wonderful! [y/n], Sam, consider yourself both invited to lunch with Seán and I. We’ll be doing all that fnaf stuff afterwards.” 

He stood for a few moments longer, before stepping back with a small awkward wave, and turning to make the journey back to his booth. You and Sam watched him as he walked all the way back, doing that kind of strut you do when you know people are looking at you. You could still smell his cologne, and the fact his deep, largely endearing voice was no longer present made you wish he could come back already.

“Well,” Sam then started, “I don’t know if we could call that a date, or what, but you know, it’s a real start.”

Snapping yourself out of it, you scoffed, and leant up against the glass wall that separated you, “yeah, yeah. Well at least I know he isn’t being a total douchebag for no reason. Like, I think he was genuinely being shy.”

Sam shrugged her response, and you meandered around the glass wall to sit back in your chair and finish your coffee. You weren’t going to lie to yourself and say you weren’t looking forward to seeing him again… but, you were kind of looking forward to it. Or at least, getting to properly get to know him. A bit of you wondered what he defined as having ‘lunch’, because surely wherever he went there was going to be a gaggle of fans following after. A little part of you flipped and tumbled excitedly at the thought that he wanted to spend a small amount of time with just you. Well, Sam too, but you’re sure he invited her for courtesy, or as company for Seán.

Now, though, you couldn’t wait for lunch to come.


	4. Chapter 4

Slipping your phone out from your pocket, you took a glance at the time. 11:50pm. Was it already that time? Your lunch with Mark was fast approached. A small flutter in your chest arose and you cleared your throat, shoving the smart phone back into your pocket and opting instead for hugging your camera closer to your chest.

“From the looks of it, someone’s getting nervous,” smirked Sam from beside you, as you walked in time with one another, “that’s like, the fifth time you’ve checked your phone in five minutes.”

“Yeah well,” you responded quietly, “it is kinda daunting. It’s not like me and him are friends or anything.”

She made no response, and you both slowed as you came to the main entrance of the expo centre. There were large cement steps that formed a large semicircle up to the entrance - lots of people were sitting on these steps whilst they had a chat amongst one another, and got some fresh air. Sam found a relatively empty spot and sat down, you followed suit.

“I’m actually quite looking forward to meeting the Jacksepticeye, myself,” Sam remarked, placing her camera gingerly between her legs, on the lower step, “he’s pretty darn hilarious.”

You grinned, “oh, so you do watch stuff on youtube, then?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say yes to a job like this if I wasn’t a little interested in videogames, would I?” She said with a smile, swiping some of her wavy blonde hair back behind her ear and out of her eyes, “plus, I know what you’re like. You’d never want to meet Markimoo all alone, eh?”

You shot her a dirty look and jabbed her in the side with your elbow, “alright, jeez, I’ve only just met the guy!”

She giggled a response, then reached into her bag, handing you one of the cans of Sprite that she took out from it. You gratefully accepted the cool drink and cracked it open.

It was pretty nice outside, especially for London. It wasn’t even overcast, at all. Blue skies and the warm sun shone above - it was actually a decent temperature, mild enough that you hadn’t bothered to bring a jacket. The breeze picked up slightly, and a smile wormed its way to your lips. This was actually pretty good for a work assignment. Although, you couldn’t help but feel nerves starting to creep up on you again. Batting them aside, you tried your hardest to think about something else - the last thing you wanted to get worked up over was meeting some celebrity. Your stomach churned dangerously and you closed your eyes for a moment.

“Hm, it’s 12:30,” Sam remarked, after a while. You snapped open your eyes, only then realising that you had almost dozed off - the morning of being on your feet was clearly already taking a toll on you, “Mark said he’d be here for 12.”

“Pfft, he’s probably not going to bother turning up,” you said, feeling the nerves dissipate as they were slowly replaced with spite, “I mean, he’s pretty much known by everyone who’s come to this event. Why would he bother actually making time for us?”

You pulled yourself to your feet, gently slinging your bag over your shoulder, Sam looked up at you expectantly.

“C’mon, let’s go to KFC or something. There’s one like, a ten minute walk away. He’s had half an hour to get here, and I’m pretty hungry, not gonna lie.”

Sam shrugged, as she normally does, climbing to her feet and slipping her camera into the carry case she had slung over one shoulder. You both began walking slowly down the rest of the cement steps. As you started to move away from the expo centre, the sound of shrieks and happy cries filled the air. Almost instantly, you knew what was happening, but you couldn’t help but feel a lump for in your throat as you turned around to see what was starting all the commotion. You saw a grin burst onto Sam’s face and she sent you a cheeky glance.

Mark, smiling from ear to ear, with an equally happy looking Seán stepped out of the main entrance, almost being swarmed by a group of people, both male and female. Since he was standing at the top of the steps, however, he spotted you down at the roadside pretty quickly. He raised a hand to wave, but was interrupted by girls who were holding out their phones and cameras, ready for selfie taking. You bit your lip nervously.

“Well, guess they are coming with us, after all,” Sam remarked from beside you, and you turned to her with a smile.

“I guess so. I’m still a little nervous though. It’s not like we have a lot to talk about.”

She pulled a face and waved you off with a hand, “oh pfft, come on, there’s plenty to talk about. He’s goddamn famous, for Christ’s sake!”

“Okay, okay,” you groaned, batting her hand out of your face in annoyance, “I get it. He’s just such a personality, you know?”

“Hell, if that’s the case then he can just talk for you,” she responded, before turning her attention away from you, and looking over your shoulder with a welcoming smile.

“Oh hey, Sam,” Mark welcomed as he came up behind you. You turned on the spot and was greeted by his grin, “hey, [y/n].”

You smiled back, feeling a heat rise against your face at the sound of him speaking your name, “hey, Mark.”

You took a moment to study his face, and you couldn’t help but feel a slight twinge of pride for yourself. You’re not sure what it was that drove Mark to want to spend his lunch break with you, but you sure as well weren’t going to spend a long time questioning it. A natural smile worked its way to your lips as you noticed his unruly pink hair falling ever so slightly across his forehead as the wind picked up a little. It wasn’t until he blinked a few times and went to move the straying hair did you realised he had been speaking to you.

“I don’t really know many places here, I barely had time to get here from my hotel this morning. It’s been pretty hectic, you know?” He said, squinting his eyes a little as he chuckled. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head slightly. A gust of wind peppered you with the smell of his cologne for a few seconds, and you nodded at him in bewilderment.

“I’ve been here a few times. There’s a KFC down the road, if you, um, if you fancy it?”

“A KFC? Oh nice. Sounds brilliant to me. I mean - if that’s alright with you? And I’m sure it’ll be okay with Seán, wherever he is,” he responded, glancing over his shoulder. You followed his gaze to see the Irish man pretty much holding back a wall of people - probably all itching to see Mark. “Oh damn,” Mark added under his breath. Hearing his voice turn all gravelly and deep in person made you blink in surprise. It was like sugar to the ears.

“It’s okay!” Hollered a beaming Seán, who was getting a little bit engulfed by all of the people, “go on without me! I’ll be alright, just save me some food!”

“Is he going to be okay?” You said quietly, as you heard Sam laughing at the Irish man, from behind you, “doesn’t he wanna come with?”

“You heard the man,” Mark smiled, “he’ll be fine!”

You shrugged, and was about to start walking in the direction of the restaurant, when Sam piped up from beside you, tapping you on the shoulder lightly.

“I think I might help Jacksep- uh, Seán, a little,” she said, earning a grimace from you, “plus I can get more pictures.”

You knew her game. She didn’t need pictures of a YouTuber getting swamped by people who were trying to get to Mark. She had already expressed her interest in meeting the Irish man, and she knew that you were nervous meeting Markiplier and pretty much terrified of spending one on one time with him. Your heart sunk slightly as her expression changed from curious to devilish. She grinned and raised her camera, winking at you, before bounding over towards the huddle of people, snapping pictures. Seán started posing and you smiled nervously to yourself.

“So, just me and you, then?” Mark said suddenly from beside you, and all in an instant your stomach dropped, you turned to look at the man, and he returned the look expectantly.

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” you stammered, moving your arm to push some hair behind your ear. Desperately, you wanted to ask why he even wanted to have lunch with you. It wasn’t like you’d done anything particularly interesting to warrant getting his attention - you were just here for work and had only really spent most of your morning wandering around all the exhibitions, taking photos of people.

You smiled at him and started walking in the direction of the KFC, and Mark fell into stride beside you. Even walking him beside you was making your heart twist and shudder in your chest, and you struggled to ignore it. It’s just nerves, you tried to convince yourself, it’s just the feeling you’d get if you spent time with someone new. Just like anyone else. Yet, as you walked beside him down a long street, with tall apartments raised either side of you, you couldn’t help but feel like it wasn’t just nerves - a small part of your brain was trying to let you know that a different feeling was brewing inside of you.

“Oh god,” you mumbled audibly as you looked to the ground and maneuvered out of the way of oncoming people. A few of them seemed to notice the pink haired man and called out in surprise.

“What was that?” he asked you quizzically, as he waved at the few people who had spotted him across the street.

You fumbled with the hem of your shirt slightly, “oh, nothing, it’s fine.”

“Hmm, alright, if you say so,” he remarked, as you both turned a corner. You didn’t look at him, and concentrated on the KFC that you could see in the distance.

Pins and needles tingled in your hands and feet, and it felt as if a whole flock of butterflies were getting ready to burst from your chest. I don’t think I can do this, your thoughts screamed as the restaurant approached, I don’t think I can just walk down the street with Markiplier without making a fool of myself, let alone eat food in front of him. Any other person, and you probably wouldn’t have cared, but for some reason this man was making you feel like a high school student who has to give a speech to the rest of their class - a shaking bag of nerves.

This was going to be fun.


	5. Chapter 5

You tried to ignore your heart as it hammered away dangerously in your chest, and attempted to concentrate on eating without getting food on your face. A hungry Mark sat opposite, way more interested in eating his food than looking at you. You frowned and dropped some stripped chicken bones onto the tray you had been given, opting instead to grab a napkin and dab delicately at your lips, just in case you had made a mess of yourself.

“So,” Mark started, swallowing and looking at you, “you do photography, huh?”

“Uh, yeah,” you stammered nervously, aware that quite a few people in the busy fast food chain were looking at you and the famous YouTuber sitting together, “been at it a few years.”

He grinned and wiped his fingers on a napkin, nodding at you, “that’s pretty neat. So, would you have come to Eurogamer if you, say, weren’t doing it for work?”

“Yeah, probably,” you admitted slowly, still not entirely sure why he’d want to know something like that, “why?”

He shrugged, “I was curious as to whether I’d even have met you if you weren’t here for work.”

You scrunched up your face a little. If any time was right to ask him why he even wanted to spend time with you, now was it. Otherwise, why would he even ask a question like that? As you opened your mouth to speak, two figures came up to you and sat themselves down at the spare seats. Pulling his attention away from you, Mark grinned as Seán slapped him enthusiastically on the back. Maybe you could ask another time.

“Maaark,” he greeted, rather loud, “I knew we’d find ya! Sammy here did a right fine job of distracting the mob with me.”

Mark barked a nervous laugh, and Sam, who had sat opposite the Irish man, pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes, exhaling a sigh.

A convulsion of feelings bubbled deep within you. What did he mean by that? Distracting them? You hadn’t really put much thought into it - as to why Seán was holding people back, over at the exhibition centre. It didn’t actually occur to you that he was doing it on purpose - was it so that Mark could speak to you without having other people trying to butt in?

Mark had a guilty look on his face, and a chirpy Seán was none the wiser, opting instead to grab one of Mark’s uneaten chicken wings and start chomping into it. The eccentric man happily ate whilst his friend tried to avoid your gaze.

“I’ll uh, be back in a moment,” you said quietly, standing up and looking for the restroom. You spotted it across the restaurant, and started to move towards it quickly. Meandering between people eating their food and others who were queuing to order, you could feel eyes staring at the back of your head. Namely, the eyes of other people in the restaurant who were probably thinking, ‘how come she gets to sit with Markiplier?’

And well, it was true. Why did you get to sit and have lunch with him? What was so special about just the normal you? The questions floated about in your head as you moved into the ladies restroom and locked yourself into one of the free cubicles. You were thankful that the room was empty. You lowered the lid and sat on it, burying your face in your hands as you groaned. You just couldn’t figure out what was making you feel so stressed, was it the overwhelming feeling of spending time with Mark? Was it something else?

“[y/n]?” Came a voice from the restroom entrance. You heard the door open and close, “are you alright?”

“Yeah, Sam,” you replied, getting up and unlocking the door, you looked at her and folded your arms across your chest, “so, what was all that about?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she said wearily. You could tell there was something she wasn’t telling you. She paused for a while, then opened her mouth to continue, “um, well, Mark apparently wanted to spend some time alone with you, because he um, I don’t know. It’d be better if he said it. He’s taken a shining to you, I guess. He asked Seán to keep his fans at bay and well, I kinda clicked onto it whilst we were outside the exhibition centre that he wanted to have lunch with you alone. Plus you seemed really intrigued by him and well… yeah...”

“Oh,” was all you could muster. She flashed you a worried smile, before reaching out to touch one of your folded arms.

“Come on,” she urged, “let’s go sit down. Just act like I didn’t say anything. I bet Mark’s feeling pretty dumb right now, you know, after plotting to hang out with you alone instead of just asking.”

You snorted in laughter a little, and started to feel better. She was right, it was pretty funny to think about, and Mark probably did feel a bit silly. The least you could do is not rub his face in it, and just have some fun.

An elderly woman entered the restroom, and smile meekly at you both. Smiling your hello and goodbye, you and Sam moved past her and back to your seats. You could feel your pulse shuddering into high gear as the back of Mark’s head got closer, but you tried to bat it away - other feelings were mixed in there too. Annoyance, that he didn’t just ask to hang out alone. Embarrassment, that Sam and Seán were ‘in’ on it. There wasn’t any anger mixed in there, though, and for that you were glad.

“You okay?” Mark said as you and Sam took your seats. You nodded with a smile, and noted how Seán had an apologetic look about him. You impulsively wiggled your eyebrows at him and his face burst out into a grin, eliminating any other feelings of dread within the circle - you all chuckled and giggled together until your lunch break was over.

Outside the fast food restaurant, you and the three others stood, rubbing your hands together slightly as the wind picked up.

“Okay, so,” Mark announced, seeming a lot more confident now that you were back into the bustling streets of London, he flicked his attention to his phone momentarily, “it’s 1.30, and the live five nights playthrough starts in uh, half hour.”

He smiled at you and you almost looked away under his gaze.

“You’re coming, right?”

You nodded up at him, “yeah. We can get some great editorial shots.”

In all honestly, you really wanted to admit that you were only going so you got to see him again, but it’s not like you were going to tell any body that.


	6. Chapter 6

The room had been darkened and the floor was littered with bean bags and pillows. You could barely see the heads of all the people sitting together, awaiting the beginning of the live ‘Let’s Play’. The room was alive with murmurs and chatting, and from where you stood, you felt nervous for Mark. Around the edge of the sectioned off part of the exhibition centre, stood more people, as there was no other room on the floor. You stood as a part of this crowd, though were allowed closer to the front stage than the public, due to your photo documentation of the expo. You spotted Sam giving you a thumbs up from the other side of the excited crowd.

A large projector screen took up the whole wall above the events stage. The stage itself was host to a few comfy looking chairs, and a computer - the one that would be running the game itself. It was all hooked up to an expensive projector that whirred away silently somewhere in the tall rafters of the large building.

Your ears perked to the sound of some girls sitting together at your feet, they were giggling and chirping away, loudly.

“We’re so close,” one of them said quickly, and you glanced down to get a look at her. She had long, dead straight hair, tucked behind both of her ears, “do you think he’ll see us?”

“Oh, definitely, me and Amy spoke to him earlier at his booth, and he seemed totally into us.”

“I really hope he laughs. He has a really nice laugh.”

“Oh, totally. God, and that American accent just gets to me. Han, I dare you to speak to him afterwards!”

The long, blonde haired girl battered her heavily make-up covered eyes and grinned. She opened her mouth to speak as well as nod, but the sound of crackling speakers stopped her in her tracks. The entire room then burst alive in electricity and excitement as the event was beginning.

You bit your lip and switched on your camera, making sure the flash wasn’t set to burst, and concealing the bright screen against your chest. As much as you tried to ignore it, you could feel waves of jealousy splashing at you. You knew it was wrong, but a slither of your mind wanted to jab the girl who sat closest to you with your foot. You were pretty sure the one sitting in front of you was called Amy. You almost chuckled at yourself for getting jealous, if anything, they should be jealous of you. Especially seeing as the Markiplier wanted to exclusively have lunch with you, and went to heaps of (awkward) trouble to get it to happen.

Slowly, the face of Freddy Fazbear, alongside a 4, faded onto the large projector screen, becoming the first thing that was actually visible in the previously pitch black room. The entire audience roared into cheers started clapping. You rose the camera to your eye and watched through the viewfinder. A man stepped out onto the stage, wearing the uniform blue of the expo on his shirt, which itself was adorned with the word ‘staff’, in large capitals.

“Hello, everyone!” The man called into a wireless microphone, which was attached via clip to his shirt, “You all ready to get terrified?”

You snapped a shot of the presenter, and one of the crowd. A smile formed on your lips as you spotted Sam doing the same. The presenters voice was loud and incredibly British.

“Well, we won’t have you all waiting any longer. Make sure you cheer pretty loud for him, ‘cause he’s going to need it if he wants to get through this game!”

You smiled. Mark had already completed Five Night’s at Freddy’s 4, although, his videos were all edited down to reduce their length. A part of you wondered whether he practiced for this.

Without much other hesitation, the man himself strode out onto the stage, and the crowds went berserk. You peered through your camera and took more photos as he beamed from ear to ear, bowing to the audience. Through the shouts and yells, you could hear the four girls, who were still sitting by your feet, calling his name in screams.

Mark looked in your direction and his face lit up just that tiny bit more - you squeezed the shutter at that moment - and snapped a picture. You weren’t too sure whether it was a trick of the light, but as you lowered the camera and smiled back at him, he winked at you. The girls on the floor pretty much squealed at that moment, and you laughed. Mark gave you a look to suggest he saw them react too, but quickly to tore his attention to the other side of the room, and waved some more.

 

It was strange watching him play live - the audience screamed with him, and laughed with him, and sat in anticipation with him. It was like he and the crowds moulded into one organic thing. As he played, he spoke and narrated, as he has always done with his videos, pausing only to try and listen for the animatronics in the darkness of the doorway. He gasped and pulled the door shut, and the crowd gave a unanimous sigh as the dragging footsteps of one of the animatronics faded into the distance.

You smiled, switching your camera off for a few moments, seeing as you had plenty of photos of this event, you decided to just watch the rest. Watching Markiplier act and laugh in his, almost native habitat made your chest ache. There was something about the way he conducted his words, and how his dyed pink hair was unruly and sticking up from being squashed beneath his headset. He just seemed so natural - well, besides the pink.

The final 6:00am beeped on the massive screen, and the crowd cheered. Mark leant back happily in his seat and raised his fists to the sky - celebrating. Even though your legs ached from watching him play for so long, and the darkness of the room made your eyes feel heavy and tired, you found yourself grinning at him, genuinely happy.

You looked to the floor slowly, still with cheering fans and onlookers crying Mark’s name, and your smile gently faded. There was definitely something amiss here. Your feelings weren’t right. Something was wrong. You bit your lip and stared at the back of Amy’s head, as she clapped her hands together and wiggled around on the floor in happiness - her friends doing the same.

Yeah, you were happy for him. He managed to finish Five Nights at Freddy’s 4, in front of a crowd, in record time. Yes, you felt like cheering, just as the rest of the place was - but as you clapped for him and watched him look happily in your direction - it wasn’t happiness for his success in the game that made you happy.

It was the fact you were realising, that you had a crush on him.

Seemingly, the world was like slow motion. One moment, you were seeing Mark smile at you expectantly, the next, you were watching as the crowd turned their happy cheers, into chanting his name over and over, the next, you were staring at your feet finding heat rushing to your face and a pins and needles sensation tickling at your toes.

You fancied Mark.


	7. Chapter 7

“It was really great meeting you both,” Sam chirped, as the four of you stood at around the corner from the exhibition's main entrance, shielded from the view of fans, “I think it’s been a pretty successful first day!”

“Totally,” Seán agreed, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

As Sam and Seán spoke across you and Mark, you averted your gaze away and tried to blank out a little. As much as you really had enjoyed yourself, the fact you had realised you were developing feelings for a man you’d met that very same day, coupled with the unwavering fatigue you felt from being on your feet all day long, you just didn’t really want to be involved in a conversation. You wanted to go back to your hotel room, put your feet up, and sleep. Emotions could come later, as you just wanted to crawl into bed.

“[y/n]?” Mark asked, and you blinked a few times, focusing on him. Sam and Seán were staring at you expectantly, “did you hear me?”

“Uh, no, sorry,” you said quickly, “I’m sorry, I’m pretty tired. I zoned out a little.”

“I asked whether you were attending tomorrow?” Mark said, his mouth gently curving into a smile. You felt your eyes lingering on his lips for a few seconds too long. His smile faded.

Sam answered for you, “we won’t be here tomorrow. Saturday is being covered by two other colleagues - ones who wanted to attend the event - we’ll be doing Sunday, though.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, finding your voice and looking away from Mark, “tomorrow we’re just going to be going sightseeing around London.”

“Oh, well, that’s pretty cool,” he said with a flicker of a smile, folding his arms over his chest, “we should do something in the evening, maybe?”

You and Sam shared a look, and noticed saw Sam nod at you gently. You turned to Mark and returned his smile, although wearily.

“That sounds nice.”

His eyes lit up, “great! Mind if I put my number on your phone so we can get in contact about what to do?”

You felt Sam nudge you gently in the side, and you sent her the look. She folded her arms over her chest and laughed to herself quietly. Turning your attention back to an oblivious Mark, you nodded and slipped your phone out of your pocket, flipping through the menus to get to the ‘new contact’ section. Once you had located it, you passed the phone over to him - and he tapped away casually. Even though he looked relaxed and happy, you felt the absolutely opposite, mainly because he was putting his mobile number into your phone.

“Here,” he said, handing it back to you. Your pulse thumped away dangerously in your fingertips when you spotted his name saved into your contacts list, “it’s my US number, but I think iMessage is free over data, so it should be okay so long as you’ve got Wi-Fi.”

You nodded - finding yourself unable to do anything but just that.

Someone over by the exhibition entrance called Seán’s name, and he turned on the spot to wave at them. He started to move away so they could talk, but not before grinning at Sam and grabbing her wrist, and she yelped her goodbye as she was whisked away.

“I guess she’s off then,” you said with a laugh, before adding “they seem to get along really well.”

You looked at Mark and he shrugged enthusiastically, puckering his lips slightly before he spoke, “yeah, it’s nice. Seán really seems to have taken a liking to her.”

And it was true. Over the course of the day all Sam had done was speak to you excitedly about something the Irish man, about how well they got along, and how she thought they had a good friendship brewing. She knew he had a girlfriend back in Ireland, but she said it wasn’t going to stop her from being his friend. You had wished her luck.

“Well, I think I’m gonna head back to my hotel. I’m actually really freakin’ tired,” you admitted, with a sigh, “all I wanna do is crawl into bed and sleep.”

Mark smiled softly, “yeah, I get you. I’m still pretty jet lagged myself, but I gotta go tidy the booth for tomorrow before I go back to the hotel.”

A pang of curiously hit you, and though you didn’t vocalise it, you wondered which hotel he was staying at. The one that your work had placed you in was a short walk from the exhibition centre, as to provide a little more ease for your feet, and allow you to not have to get up as early to travel - which you were extremely grateful for.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” He added, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and adjusting the hem of his chequered shirt slightly. You noted to yourself how he had specifically said ‘see’ you tomorrow, as opposed to ‘speak’. A little part of you was happy that he wanted to see you again, before the last day of the expo.

“Yeah,” you smiled, gripping your hands together nervously in front of you, as you suspected what was coming next. The weight of your bag against your shoulder suddenly became more apparent as you tried to concentrate on not shaking like a leaf.

He grinned at you and opened his arms, and your suspicions were confirmed. Smiling, albeit with nerves, you opened your arms and let him envelop you in a hug. His still apparent smell of cologne and undefiable man smell, surrounded you - as did his warmth. You felt his hands tightly push against the upper and lower parts of back as he squeezed you further into the crook of his neck. You squeezed back.

Pulling away, he let his hands linger at your waist for a few moments, before smiling at you and letting them fall to his sides. Despite your heart racing at what felt like a thousand beats per minute, you wished him a nice evening and turned on the spot, walking in the direction of the main road, and towards your hotel.


	8. Chapter 8

For breakfast, you decided to have something continental. Gently, you sprinkled a small amount of sugar over your milk-saturated Cheerios, and prodded them around with your spoon. The hotel’s restaurant was warm and toasty, and the gentle murmur of other morning-goes made the place feel a lot more alive. You tapped your feet together gently as you ate, feeling a lot more refreshed that you did last night.

Sam plopped down in the seat opposite you, brandishing her toast proudly. She dropped a few small packets of butter and jam down on the table and gently put her glass of apple juice onto a coaster.

“So,” she started, as she began to butter her slightly underdone toast. You looked up from your milky cereal, “what’s the plan for today?”

You thought for a moment or two, “maybe the Sea Life aquarium? Over by the London Eye? I hear they got this brand new sea dragon exhibit, which sounds super cool.”

Sam beamed at you, “that, sounds, awesome. Oh man, do they have sharks?!”

She was almost squirming in her seat, and you laughed at her as you chewed your food. It was a good thing that work had paid for your travel expenses, as well as the hotel, otherwise being able to relax for a day in London was completely out of the question. You could barely usually scrape enough change together to catch a bus into town, let alone get a whole day's worth of underground and DLR tickets.

You both finished your food quickly, before slinging your bags over your shoulders and leaving the hotel. Luckily, the wind wasn’t as apparent today, and you still didn’t need a jacket. It almost felt like Summer.

“So,” Sam said, with a wiggle of the eyebrows, and you groaned in anticipation, “have you texted Mark yet?”

“No,” you insisted, as you both walked in the direction of the nearest underground, you checked your watch, “I’m not going to text him at 10am!”

She shrugged, “well, he’ll definitely be up. The expo opened its doors at 9.”

“Well then, he’d be busy.”

She threw back her head with a laugh, “from how I’ve seen, he’ll definitely make time to speak to you!”

You stopped walking halfway down the steps to the underground, and someone who was walking behind you cussed. You apologised and carried on walking, turning your attention back to your friend.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh c’mon, me and Seán saw you and him hug yesterday!”

“We were just saying goodbye!” you insisted, following your blonde friend as she moved to one of the platforms. The warm rush of air that was apparent before the train had even arrived billowed around you, and she just gave you a sarcastic grin, with raised eyebrows, as the approaching train screeched to a halt in front of you. It was fairly busy, being a Saturday, but you managed to squeeze into the carriage and grab two seats together.

“So, you’re going to text him, right?” She pushed, and you rolled your eyes with a groan, she pouted, “oh come on, , you two would be, like, adorable together!”

“You’re forgetting who he is, Sammy,” you remarked, “he’s a man with over ten million subscribers on YouTube. Makes God knows how much money. Is friends with people who also make God knows how much money. I mean come on. He’s an important, and very busy man.”

“You’re just a chicken,” she said under her breath. You whipped your head around to stare at her, as the rickety train curved dangerously around one of the underground tunnels. She could see the fire burning in your eyes. Being called chicken was the last thing you expected.

“Fine,” you barked, and you clawed your phone from your pocket in a rush, “you want me to text him? I’ll text him.”

She squealed a little and clapped her hands together, beaming at you. Rolling your eyes in annoyance, you tapped at the screen a few times to bring up a new message.

 

To: Mark Fischbach

Morning, Mark. Hope EG’s going well :)

 

You opted for a smiley face as opposed to an kiss, seeing as you’d only physically known the man for a day. You felt Sam lean across to you and oggle at your phone’s screen for a moment, before leaning back and nodding, pouting slightly and half closing her eyes. She made the ‘nice’ symbol with her hands, placing her thumb and pointer finger together in an ‘O’ shape, before giggling and elbowing you gently.

“Still gotta send it yet!”

You rolled your eyes, again, and tapped send. Watching the blue progress bar send the message was daunting, and it wasn’t until it was marked as sent did your throat tighten up and your palms feel that little bit clammier. Seeing as your were in the underground, you wasn’t expecting the message to send at all. Worry and anticipation draped around you.

Shortly after, your phone vibrated - as it was on silent - and you and Sam’s heads snapped towards it in excitement. It was a text. From Mark.

 

From: Mark Fischbach

Good morning, ! Not too bad, really busy! Hope you are well! x

 

You and Sam almost melted right there in your seats. Sam gripped your wrist and looked you deep in the eyes, her voice lowered and her expression almost solemn.

“This man,” she breathed exasperatedly, “has sent,” she furrowed her eyebrows, “a text kiss.”

All you could do was nod, eyes wide, and so your friend continued.

“I’m…” She smiled at you, releasing her vice grip on your wrist and covering her mouth with her hand, she mock sniffled at you, “I’m so proud of you.”

You cackled with laughed and swatted her shoulder with your hand, and she broke her not very convincing demeanour and giggled along with you. Laughing still, you both got off at your stop and meandered up onto the surface. All that now separated you from the Sea Life aquarium was the Thames itself. Casually, you started walking across the bridge. Multi-tasking, you pulled your phone from your pocket and tapped away your response.

 

To: Mark Fischbach

I’m pretty good, hope you are too! Sam and I are off to the Sea Life center today :) Gonna see us some sea dragons, aha. x

 

You almost hesitated tapping out that final kiss, but you decided to not dawdle on it and just send it anyway. It wasn’t like the Earth was going to implode just because you sent a digital kiss to someone. Though, as you made it across the bridge and queued up to enter the aquarium, you felt like your chest was going to burst. You already couldn’t wait for Mark to reply.


	9. Chapter 9

You flopped down onto your bed, sighing. Another day of being on your feet had almost taken it out of you, although, there was one thing that was keeping you on your toes - the knowledge that the Markiplier wanted to hang out with you tonight. You relaxed into the fluffy pillows and brought your phone up out of your pocket, noticing that your battery had dipped below 30%.

Frowning, you left the device on your bed and moved to the other side of your room so you could rummage around in your suitcase. Your phone charger was pretty well hidden beneath all of your clothes and other travel necessities.

As you were returning to your bed with the charger, your phone vibrated.

Plugging it back in, you crawled back onto your bed, this time kicking off your shoes in the process. It was a text from Mark. You smiled to yourself. Even though you and him had been texting back and forth all day long, getting a text from him still made you happy. You wondered if it made him happy too. If anything, Sam was right, he was definitely making time for you. You grinned at the thought of all the fans trying to get his attention, when he was busy texting you instead.

 

From: Mark Fischbach

Seán suggested clubbing? :s idk though xx

 

Ah, that’s right. You and him were mid conversation about what to do that evening. It was fast approached 5pm now, and you and Sam had separated ways to go to your respective hotel rooms, awaiting the decision on what to do as a little group. And, throughout the day, you were happy to notice that your back and forth messages had progressed to two whole digital kisses.

 

To: Mark Fischbach

I don’t mind really. I don’t really drink tbh but I don’t mind 1 or 2 if we all do it together xx

 

As always, his response was sharp.

 

From: Mark Fischbach

Good point :p I mean I honestly don’t like drinking much, doesn’t agree with my system, but if we find a good place I don’t mind just the one. Plus, I’d like to be coherent for tomorrow :-) xx

 

To: Mark Fischback

Brill. So does Seán know a place? xx

 

From: Mark Fischbach

Hang on he’s just telling me about one now. I shall decipher and then get back to you, m’lady :-P xx

 

You grinned and set your phone down on the bedside cabinet, deciding to use this time to get yourself ready. Returning to your suitcase, you shuffled around through the assortment of clothes until you pulled out something you liked. Now normally, you weren’t exactly comfortable in a skirt, but as the nights got colder and tights got thicker, you didn’t really mind. Plus, the tights you’d brought with were patterned and really comfy. You picked a lovely white blouse to pair up with the short pencil skirt and prayed to God that you didn’t get it dirty. Laying out the clothes on the bed, another text vibrated through to your phone. You eyed the message as you were sorting out clean underwear, and saw another text from Mark.

 

From: Mark Fischbach

ok, so there’s apparently a good place not far from your hotel, which is pretty lucky. Probably can meet for 7ish for pre-drinks? more like pre-soda for me if I’m saving myself that one beer for the nightclub aha. If you could tell me your hotel address so me and Seán can get to you for then? xx

 

Excitement bubbled from within your chest and you quickly responded with the hotel’s location. Then, you sent Sam a text detailing the times and whereabouts you were all headed for the evening. She responded as equally excited, and then started fretting to you about what she was going to wear.

Smiling, you exited your messages and opted instead to play some music. Whilst your favourite playlist was on shuffed, you gathered some towels and ventured to your rooms’ en-suite bathroom. Seeing as you had a couple of hours until Mark and Seán were arriving, you thought it best you clean the day's dirt away and have a nice, fresh start to the evening.

At around 6:30pm, you were finally ready. Feeling revitalised, you grabbed a small handbag and packed into it the necessities; phone, backup makeup, and a little money. You didn’t normally wear a lot of makeup, but as tonight was a going out night, you thought it’d be nice - definitely not caked on, but just enough to accentuate your facial features. You smiled at yourself in the mirror and hoped that Mark was looking forward to this evening as much as you were. Yeah, you’d known the man a day, but you could really feel a great friendship blossoming. Whether that evolved into something else, well, you’d let fate take the wheel on that one.

You snapped up your hotel room key from the bedside cabinet and moved out into the hallway, walking down the corridor just as Sam emerged from her room. She looked equally excited for the night, and quickly shuffled over to you, happily. You noticed that she was also wearing some makeup, maybe a little more than you were, and had clad herself in a deep red dress. It complemented her shape well.

“I am so ready for this,” she bleated as she adjusted her own, thin-strapped shoulder bag, “I spent almost an hour going through the mountain of clothes I dragged here with me!”

You smiled at her, “jeez, how many clothes did you bring if you spent almost an hour going through them?”

“Well, you never know what’s going to come up! You’d have regretted only bringing jeans and a hoodie if you didn’t expect to live a little in this city!”

Grinning, she grabbed you by the hand and you both made your way into the hotel lobby. Sam was wearing high heels, and it showed, by her towering over you a good few more inches more than usual. You weren’t as plucky as her, and didn’t fancy your chances at trying to not fall over and sprain your ankle, so instead chose the nice black dolly shoes that you had brought with you as spares.

You both made yourselves comfortable on one of the lobby sofa’s, and chatted quietly about how the night was going to go.

“Shall we go to the hotel bar for pre-drinks, then?” Sam questioned, “it’s open pretty late anyway so we could grab a drink or two before we go to the nightclub. I mean, who goes clubbing at like, 7pm?”

You nodded, “yeah, most aren’t open till 9 or 10 anyway, so we can just chat and hang out for a bit here, first."

 

7pm rolled around quickly, and you were talking animatedly with Sam when Seán and Mark waltzed into the quiet hotel lobby. You spotted them and waved them over. Heart rate elevating by the second, you and Sam stood up as the boys arrived, and guided them to the moderately half full bar, finding a place for you to all sit.

“So, did you girls have a nice day in London?” Mark asked, as he arrived at the table and sat down, opposite your seat. Sam slid in next to you, and Seán next to Mark.

“It was great,” you said with a smile, “I’m pretty sure Sam enjoyed the sharks the most.”

She nodded in agreement, “they were so freaking awesome.”

As you all spoke together happily in the cool bar area, sipping at drinks and having a nice time, you began to feel a little self conscious. Normally, this wasn’t so much of a problem for you, but knowing that you had dressed yourself up all nice on purpose, meant that you were aware that Mark was probably assessing how you looked in his mind. Every few moments, you swiped some hair back behind your ear and tried to concentrate on the condensation that was gathering on the outside of your almost finished drink.

You felt Mark’s foot bump yours slightly, and you noticed him pull back. Your heart dropped slightly, and you slipped a little further into that self-conscious zone that you couldn’t help but create. Besides that, you could feel the warmth of the small amount of alcohol you had consumed, swirling around in your middle - and it tried its best at numbing the feeling of caring so much. There was that obvious part of you that didn’t want to get drunk in front of Mark, but you couldn’t help but feel like it was the only way you were going to feel more open about yourself.

“Club time!” Seán cooed, scooting out of the booth and stretching his legs, “you guys haven’t even seen true dancing till you’ve seen me!”

Sam laughed and also pulled herself out of the booth, holding a hand out to assist you. Even though your heart was racing and your hands were feeling a little clammy, you knew that Sam would always be there for you. She was definitely one of your closest friends, and you wouldn’t trade her for the world. She could always tell when you were feeling a little tense, and knew exactly how to make you feel better.

The weather had turned bitter outside, and goosebumps were apparent on everyone’s arms. Shivering, you were glad to actually arrive at the nightclub, which was a little further than you had expected. Seán was still raving and ranting about how his dancing was going to trump everyone else's, and Mark was being oddly quiet.

“Are you okay?” You asked him, as you walked behind Seán and Sam, along the footpath.

He shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked, and you smiled to yourself about the fact he was still wearing his ‘lucky’ flannel, though had changed into jeans that were a little more fitted, and darker.

“I’m alright,” he said, looking ahead, “I’m just not one for nightclubs.”

You frowned at him, and he avoided your gaze, you spoke under your breath, “if you weren’t keen on this kind of stuff, you should have said. We didn’t have to come.”

“It’s fine,” he insisted, now looking at you with a small smile, “I did want to try out the English night life anyway, but the weather is making it a little more bleak.”

Feeling brave, you moved a hand up and squeeze his forearm gently. Your mind raced with anticipation, probably seeing as it was only the second time you’d ever touched the man. He seemed to take the contact well, and briefly de-pocketed his other hand to grab the one you’d placed on his arm, he placed his larger hand over yours and clasped it gently. You smiled at each other, before you returned to folding your arms across your chest, and he put his hand back in his pocket.

“We’re here!” Sung a bewilderingly happy Seán, as you turned the corner and was faced with a line of cold-looking people, “shouldn’t take too long to get in!”

You could hear the distant music thumping away, and you clawed gently at your neck, wishing you had worn a necklace so that you could fiddle with it nervously. You really hoped this night was going to go well, and you were still baffled at how Seán didn’t look cold at all.


	10. Chapter 10

The music was almost deafeningly loud, and the London nightlife was lapping it up. People danced in close quarters, with multicoloured lights flashing and pulsing through the otherwise dark room. You could feel the heat against your skin, and the drink you tightly gripped in your hand was making your skin slick with condensation.

You weren’t entirely sure where the others had gone, and honestly you didn’t exactly mind. Having already ingested some alcoholic drinks, you could feel its intoxicated hands gently gripping at your mind, making your vision a little bit hazy, and your middle section warm. Of course, you weren’t massively drunk, you were coherent and able to make decisions, but if prompted, you wouldn’t want to drive. That kind of ‘drunk’.

Grazing your eyes across the dance floor, you spotted the Irish man, Seán, dancing as if his life depended on it. You grinned as he squirmed around and pumped his arms happily.

You took a small sip through the straw that stuck haphazardly from your glass, and the taste of coke and some sort of spirit swirled around your mouth before you swallowed, and the heat of the alcohol spread through you again. Going for another sip, you were greeted with nothing, and so opted to put the empty glass on a nearby table.

The bass made your chest reverberate, and if someone was to try to speak to you, there’d be no doubt that you’d have no idea what on Earth they were talking about.

The feelings you had earlier that night about being conscious of what you looked like had dissipated as soon as you had drunk a few drinks, and you were actually flattered to find a few guys had come up to you to talk (or try to), or to ask you to dance. You’d politely declined them all, however, as you weren’t exactly the kind of person to go mad on the dance floor - even with a few alcoholic drinks sloshing around in your stomach.

Eventually, your eyes settled across the dance floor, and on Mark. He was standing, watching Seán dance, laughing, eyes bright. He seemed a lot happier than he was outside, probably because it wasn’t nearly as cold inside, at all. He held a beer in one hand, and had his arms folded across his chest. You watched him enjoy himself, and you were about to go and stand with him, but his eyes quickly flicked up to meet yours. You contemplated looking away in embarrassment for being caught staring, but the alcohol in your system urged you to go to him anyway.

He had stopped laughing, and hadn’t taken his gaze away from yours - though, he was still smiling. It was a soft smile. You moved down through the dance floor, squeezing between people and getting elbowed a few times by dancers’ stray arms. You arrived beside the pink haired man in a fluster and smiled up at him through the flashing lights. Every few seconds his face was lit up in another colour, smile still as sincere.

“Hey,” he said loudly, overcompensating due to the noise, “having fun?”

“I guess!” You yelled back, sounding more like you were shouting than talking loud, “are you?”

He shrugged, looking away for a moment, “I think so. I’m not really a nightlife kinda guy.”

You pouted at him a moment, “oh, Mark, you should have said! We could have done something else together.”

He wiggled his eyebrows at you suggestively and you both cackled in laughter. If it were any other day, you probably would have gotten all embarrassed and would have just walked away, but in a busy room with loud music and alcohol in your system, you found that you didn’t really care. It was only a harmless bit of fun.

“I think I might head back, soon,” Mark said over the music, and you nodded, as it was getting rather late, “gotta be up early for tomorrow.”

“Alright,” you agreed, with a smile, “I might leave too, then, ‘cause I can pretty much hear my bed calling me.”

He opened his mouth to say something else when a gaggle of girls near enough pushed you aside and started talking animatedly with Mark. It took you a few seconds, but you recognised the girls as the ones who were at his live Let’s Play of Five Nights at Freddy’s. Your heart sank. The girl with the long blonde hair was dressed in an attire that stuck tight to her skinny frame, and you had a hard time distinguishing whether the length of her dress gave her any modesty at all. She batted her eyelids at the flustered Mark and her friends all ushered her forward. You couldn’t hear what she was saying, but Mark didn’t seem reciprocative. She stepped forward, and though you couldn’t see her face, the fact Mark took a step back against the wall as she near enough rubbed herself up against him, gave you the idea that she was insistent on getting with him. She was probably very drunk. Her friends cheered her on without a care.

Then, Mark pushed her away and rushed to your side, looping his arm into yours and pulling you close. You almost choked on your own breath in surprise. The blonde haired girl looked at you with shock, and then anger, and you stared on in disbelief as Mark pointed at you and shrugged at the girls. He didn’t need to shout over the loud, bassy music to get the point across that he was pretending to be with you. Then, the girls all stared at you with looks that could kill, and Mark turned on the spot, leading you to the entrance of the club. You both stepped outside, the music fading away to a dull drone as the doors slid shut. His arm slid out from being linked with yours and he turned on the spot, enveloping you in a warm hug, with his arms looped around your neck..

“Thanks,” he breathed, into your hair.

Speechless, you slowly let yourself hug him back. The cold night air lashed at your bare arms, but the warmth of Mark’s body was quick to replace that. You shivered into his chest and you felt his arms tighten around you ever so slightly. He pulled away and rested his hands on your shoulders.

“It’s okay,” you responded quietly, looking up at him, now feeling as sober as anything.

“But really,” he enthused, face in close proximity to yours, “I’m sorry I did that, the idea kinda popped up and it was the only way I could think of getting out. Thanks. Again.”

He let go of your shoulders and whatever was left of the heat he was transferring to you disappeared in an instant. You bit the inside of your lip in worry, confused by the feelings that were manifesting inside of you. You couldn’t help but notice how close Mark was still standing to you, deep brown eyes staring into yours, awaiting your answer.

“I’m going to go get Sam and Seán,” you said quietly, not knowing what to do with yourself, “then we should go home.”

Mark said nothing, stepping away from you, and then he just nodded.


	11. Chapter 11

The next morning, you wandered up the steps to the huge exhibition hall, with your camera in hand, and a knot in your stomach. Thousands of people were queuing either side of the stage, waiting to be let in, though you had a pass that let you in before them all. You moved through the large glass entrance doors and into the warmth. The knot writhed around in your gut as you walked through the entrance corridor and out into the open building. All of the games consoles and systems were set up, screens flashing and music playing. You tried to not look in the direction of the YouTuber section, where you were sectioned for today, and instead opted to get a coffee.

It wasn’t until you reached the area of the building that sold food and drink that you noticed that Mark was already there, sitting in one of the booths, sipping at a coffee and reading something on his phone. He didn’t see you, so you quickly moved past him and ordered your own coffee. After paying the bored looking barista, you turned on the spot, just as he looked up - he smiled and motioned for you to come and sit with him.

Biting your lip, you moved towards him, gently lowering your hot coffee down onto the table, and resting your bag and camera on the squishy leather seats. You slid into the booth, opposite him, and smiled.

“Good morning, Mark,” you said quietly.

“[y/n],” he greeted, “sleep well?”

You shrugged, gripping the warm drink with both hands, “not as well as I thought I would. My ears were ringing from the music last night.”

As much as you didn’t want to bring up the events of last night, you couldn’t avoid it. He’d acted compassionate and thankful, and your emotions confused you, making you quiet and unresponsive. He probably took it in the worst of ways, and honestly, it did look like he had. Your chest ached at the thought that the last day you get to spend with him is to be spent kicking yourself about how you acted on a night that should have been fun.

“Are you alright?” He said, voice deep. He locked his phone and set it face down on the table, turning his full attention to you. Your throat tightened instinctively.

“I- yes, I’m-”

“[y/n],” he repeated your name, looking at you with concentration, “every time I ask you if you’re okay, you say you are. But the thing is, you don’t look okay.”

You flashed a smile, feeling mischievous all of a sudden, “It’s just… I’ve got a really, really, bad case of RBF.”

Worry shot across the man’s features, and his arm twitched a little. It looked as if he was about to reach across the table and grab your hand, but had stopped himself. A part of you wished that he hadn’t changed his mind, “oh my god,” he whispered, “is it bad? Are you going to be okay?”

After a moment or two, a bubble of laughter emerged from through throat, and you had to cover your mouth whilst you laughed to stop yourself from cackling like a crazy person. Mark looked confused and hurt all at once, and he sat back against his seat, watching you cautiously.

“Mark,” you huffed between giggles, “RBF…. it’s, uh, it stands for resting bitch face,”

He paused for a moment, his mind ticking over slightly, before he smiled nervously and threw his head back, “god! ! I was genuinely worried!”

You shrugged, with a smile, and he moved to look at you again. Picking up your coffee, you took a gentle sip and he did the same. For a moment you were quiet, before he started to laugh. It was deep and bubbled up from his throat, until he was squeezing his eyes shut and had to put down his coffee. He removed his glasses and wiped at his eyes his hand. You grinned at him, feeling a lot more relaxed.

“You know,” he said, putting his glasses back on, “I like you, . I laugh a lot, but you make me laugh way more genuinely.”

“Why thank you,” you said with a smile, “I like you too!”

“So,” he said, motioning to your camera, “more photos today?”

“Yuh huh,” you agreed, “and, it’s all about the YouTubers today. So expect to see me all over the place, aha.”

He beamed at you, “you know I’d want nothing else than get to see you all day long!”

Your chest fluttered dangerously and you smiled with a laugh. Was he really flirting with you? Not that you were opposed to it, but after how blunt you were towards him, whilst acting confused and not reciprocating his flirting, you were surprised he was still going to try. In fact, now, you quite liked it. The fact that such a famous man would take an interest in you, and so quickly at that, was as flattering as flattering could be. Your mind flickered slightly and berated you, reminding you that after today, you were probably never going to see him again.

“That’s sweet,” you croaked, looking down at your steaming coffee, and your conscience patted you on the back for standing down. You gritted your teeth, and slapped it aside, mentally, and looked up at Mark with a grin, “... I’m looking forward to seeing you all day, too. I’ll work at being your bodyguard, gotta keep the rabid fans at bay!”

He rolled his eyes, but still had an expression of surprise. And possibly relief? He was most likely expecting you to turn down his flirting in fear and confusion of your own feelings, but to actually retaliate without going quiet, it was so unlike you that it surprised him more than anything. And most of all - you had confirmed that you were looking forward to spending time with him as well.

“Well then,” he said, draining the last of his coffee, “shall we go set up? ...And prepare for the onslaught?”

You smiled at him, “that’d be awesome.”


	12. Chapter 12

You’d counted seven girls who, at different times, had wrapped their arms amorously around Mark’s neck. The girl he rejected at the nightclub the night before was slinking around with her friends, clearly weary of you and him, and all the other oblivious girls. You just tried to ignore her death glares. Even though you now understood that Mark wasn’t interested in her or any of the girls who saddled up close to him when posing for pictures, you could still feel the stab of envy and careful caress of jealousy. You held the viewfinder up to your eye and watched as Mark smiled in an almost fake manner, in every picture. Obviously, he was happy to meet so many of his fans - both male and female - but they were just so many that it was extremely taxing.

Sam was off taking photos of Seán and his fans, and also the handfuls of other YouTubers that were littered around this section of the expo. Every now and then you caught a glimpse of her through the crowd, with her camera to her eye and a big grin on her face. It warmed your heart to see your friend enjoying herself so much - she always did love photography.

At the end of the day, you, Mark, Sam and Seán were again gathered outside of the expo, all fully aware that this was probably going to be the last time in a long time that you’d all be together like this.

“I have had, a whale, of a time,” chirped Seán, as he clapped his hands together happily, “I can’t wait to do this again next year!”

You smiled at him, and then turned your attention to Mark, “will you be coming back next year?”

He grinned, “hopefully! I heard they’re moving the location to Birmingham, though.”

“Yeah,” you responded, “gonna be a little tougher for Sam and I to get there, but that’s only if we get assigned to document the event again.”

Sam cooed happily, “I’d love to do this again!”

“Well,” suggested Mark, “we’ll have to keep an eye out on the dates. It’s always this time of the year, right? Plus, I’ve heard of a lot of decent games that are meant to be released next year. I’m real excited.”

You nodded at him, “well, that’s good. It’s good to be excited for something.”

Amongst yourselves, you all chatted for a while, before a man came striding up behind you, clapping his hands against yours and Sam's shoulders, you both almost jumped out of your skin until you turned on the spot and was greeted by a black haired, slicked to his forehead, rather wrinkly, old looking man. From the way he grinned at you, you could almost see one of his shiny golden molars.

“Spock!” Sam chirped affectionately, as the man drew his hands to his sides, “what are you doing here?”

“Spock?” You heard Mark whisper in a confused manner, under his breath.

“Hello, sir,” you smiled, as the man tipped his large trilby hat and shoved his hands deep into his beige overcoat. He was dressed like some sort of noir detective, which oddly enough, was totally normal for him.

“Hey girls. I take it you’ve been having fun?” He spoke, voice strained, as it always sounded.

“Yes, great thanks. Been working hard,” Sam suggested, wiggling the camera she had hanging from around her neck.

“Good!” He said confidently, “Good. And, to answer your question, I’m just here to see how you’re both doing. The wife was gettin’ on my tits, and I needed fresh air,” he laughed heartily, “today’s the last day, right? You’d both better be getting home and start processing all those pictures. Or, at least, tomorrow. Today’s Sunday after all, day of the Christ, or whatever.”

With that, he barked a laugh, and whacked you both playfully on the back, and you almost stumbled, before he nodded at the baffled looking Seán and Mark, and striding away towards the entrance of the expo.

“What on Earth,” Mark said slowly, “Who was that? Why is he called Spock?”

Sam rolled her eyes, “Spock’s real name is Nick Cloverfield. He’s our boss. Thinks he’s all cool by trying to act badass, but since he’s like spitting image of Spock, it kinda takes away from his persona.”

The boys chuckled heartily, and again you spoke together for a while, about how the day went and the personalities that you had all met.

You felt a hand grab yours for a few seconds, and you looked up to see Mark looking at you expectantly. He let go of your hand and opened his mouth to speak;

“Can I, um, talk to you privately, for a moment?”

Heart thumping away in your chest, you nodded wordlessly. It was only then that you noticed the hefty amount of people leaving the expo. Everyone was going home. Which in turn meant that you and Mark had to go home, too, and that you were probably not going to see him for a long time, if ever again. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the gaggle of girls from the Five Nights Let’s Play, and also the nightclub, sitting on the expo entrance steps, stealing sneaky glances at you and Mark. You throat tightened in anticipation.

Mark lead you behind a tall sign, as to not be disturbed by fans or anyone else, and smiled at you. You smiled back, though you could see a little sadness in his eyes. If anything, he was probably realising that it was the last time he’d see you, too.

“[y/n],” he started, voice low and gravelly. You shivered, “I’ve had a great time, here.”

“Me too,” you said, voice quieter than you thought it was going to be, “I really have.”

“I’d like to see you again,” he breathed quickly, standing close to you. Close enough that you thought he was going to either grab your hands at any moment, or lean in to kiss you. Your heart did a few flips in your chest.

“I’d like to see you too,” you responded, not entirely sure what else to say, besides just answering his questions.

He smiled at you, brown eyes warm and inviting, “promise me you’ll stay in contact, it’d suck if we drifted apart after this.”

You nodded in agreement, patting your pocket with a nervous laugh, “I’ve still got your number, don’t worry. If you’ve got Facebook, or an email or something, I’d be fine with using that if you want, to save on the phone bill if we can’t iMessage.”

He grinned, “sounds good to me. Now c’mere!”

He enveloped you in a hug, and you laughed as you happily hugged him back, arms wrapping tightly around him. You savoured his cologne smell, and the warmth that encased you ever so briefly. Though you weren’t too sure, you could have sworn that he planted a quick kiss on the crown of your head, but you brushed it off as you felt him lean his head onto yours. You instead concentrated on squeezing him as tight as you could.

Laughing, you pulled away from each other, and he feigned being hurt, clasping his chest and wheezing.

“God,” he breathed, “[y/n], you really do have the strength of thirty men!”

You giggled at him, and he stood straight, his smiled now fading to something softer.

“Good bye, Mark,” you said, voice soft and quiet.

“Good bye, [y/n],” he responded.

 

Author's Note:

To everyone that's been reading so far:  
Don't worry, the end of this story isn't here just yet! And also, thank you! I've had many a kind word and lots of encouragement from this, and I'm pleased to say that this story has been the first great story of mine, in a long line of failures - I feel obliged and totally motivated to finish it for you all. I'm looking forward to the future we have together ♥


	13. Chapter 13

Two weeks later.

 

“Here,” you said with a smile, holding out a piece of paper with lots of boring work-related things printed one of its sides.

“Thanks,” Sam grinned, taking the paper from your hand and looking it up and down, “seems to all be here.”

You were about to turn on the spot and return to your desk, but Sam tugged at your shirt. You turned to face her.

“So, how’s you and Mark?” She said with a wink.

You rolled your eyes at her. She was completely aware that you and Mark had stayed in contact within the two weeks it had been since the Eurogamer Expo, in London. Ever since you got back to your sleepy town, you and him had done nothing but exchanging emails. Mark had recently sent you pictures of his new dog, a labrador, and you had been more than happy to oggle over the adorable pictures. Your heart ached at the fact you couldn’t see him, and you were convinced that he felt the same way.

“We’re good,” you said simply, shrugging, “just emailing back and forth.” Sam raised her eyebrows at you, unconvinced, and set down the paper you had handed her into the pigeon holes she kept on her desk.

“Hm, no saucy pictures then?” She said with a wink, adjusting her work blouse in a way that accentuated her chest a little. Flustered, you hissed at her and looked around yourself worriedly, in case Spock or any of other other managing directors were around.

“Jeez, Sam,” you said under your breath, “not in here! And no! We haven’t! It’s been entirely clean!”

She grinned, “yeah, yeah. Alright. Have a nice evening, chick!” She waved you off.

You smiled, though not without still entirely worried that someone spotted Sam’s little charade. You made your way back over to your desk and started to gather your things. You were leaving the office at 4.30 today, so you’d already turned your computer off prior to giving Sam the document.

“Bye, everyone,” you said to the room as you left, with a wave, and a few sporadic goodbye’s were mumbled in reply.

By the time you had gotten home, it was already 5pm, though you really treasured missing the evening rush hour. You kicked off your shoes and crawled onto your soft sofa, flicking on the television for background noise, and then snapping up your laptop from the floor and balancing it on your lap.

“Time to check emails,” you said absentmindedly to yourself, tapping away at the keyboard.

You had hoped that Mark had sent you another email in the time between leaving your work and getting home, but you were disappointed to see that he hadn’t. Not thinking much of it, you instead logged into Facebook and absentmindedly started scrolling down through your newsfeed. Even though you didn’t really post statuses often, you liked to have a little nose into the lives of others; and it’s not like you did it on purpose - they were the ones posting about their life online, after all.

A few pictures of pets, a few of babies from new parents, a few funny pictures, and a few minions next to unrelated quotes - you frowned at these. It wasn’t until you started going through the few notifications you had did you notice that you had received a friend request.

Mark Fischbach has added you as a friend.

With nobody around to judge you, you made a little squeal and hovered over his name on Facebook. After all, it could have been anyone, pretending to be him. But nope, the amount of friends and followers he had confirmed that it was definitely him. You accepted quickly, and were greeted with a message that not popped up at the bottom of the screen; it was from him. You were eager to start a more fast paced conversation (as opposed to email), so quickly tapped your reply.

 

Mark: [y/n]! Hey! :p

You: Mark, hi! :) how are you?

Mark: Not bad, thanks. Just got up! what time is it where you are?

You: like, 5pm. what time is it for you if you just got up??

Mark:9am… ahaa.

Mark: :p

You: oh, haha. many plans for the day?

Mark Fischbach is writing…

 

Seeing a window for opportunity, whilst he wrote, you set your laptop aside and hopped to your feet. You quickly moved into the kitchen and flipped the kettle on - with the aim to make a cup of tea. Whilst you were letting it brew, you leant into the living room to watch The Simpsons as it started to play on the television. Faintly, you heard the Facebook alert noise, and you realised that he had replied. Hastily, you threw a little sugar into your finished drink and carried it cautiously back into the living room, setting it down on a corner-side table, and putting your laptop back on your lap.

 

Mark: Not a lot actually! I’ve got a bunch of videos prerecorded  
and scheduled for today. was planning on just relaxing for  
a bit aha. and of course i wanted to talk to you (:

You: ohhh youuuu ;P

 

Even though your response was a little silly, you could feel your heart flipping and twisting around in your chest. He wanted to talk to you. The fact he genuinely had made time so that he could talk to you all day long was making you miss him even more.

 

Mark: I really miss you, you know. x

You: Haha, read my mind. i miss you too. x

 

And it was true. It was like he was reading your mind. You were actually a little grateful that you were only speaking over Facebook, as it gave you time to think about your responses a little more and gave you a chance to try to not make an embarrassment of yourself by saying the wrong thing.

As you and him spoke back and forth a little more, you got another notification. It was somebody you used to go to school with, and they had posted on your wall. You honestly didn’t really remember much about this guy, but you knew he was an avid gamer, due to the amount of screenshots and game related status that he posted. You bit your lip in worry and slight anticipation as you read his message.

“did you just become facebook friends with the ACTUAL Markiplier? wtf”

You then grinned and leaned back in your seat, speaking aloud, to yourself.

“Yes, random person, yes I did.”


	14. Chapter 14

After a few days of being friends with Mark on Facebook, you had received a barrage of messages and and friend requests. At first you weren’t entirely sure why, but you soon gathered that some fans just wanted to get to him through you, or the really jealous ones wanted to know why he added you but wouldn’t add them. You ignored most of the messages and declined most of the friend requests.

For the most part, you and Mark had been speaking nearly every day since you’d seen each other. Even though he was thousands of miles away, you could feel your fondness for him grow by the hour. Yet, as the days turned to weeks, you begun to feel like nothing would ever really come of the friendship you two had. Even though you spoke constantly, whether it was by text, over Facebook, or on the phone or Skype, there was never a mention of him coming to see you, or you going to see him. You knew for one that you would never be able to afford the flight and travel expenses to get to Los Angeles, but that didn’t stop you from wanting to go. A bit of you thought it was maybe a bit too soon for him to spend money and time visiting you, however.

It wasn’t until you trudged into work one Monday morning, roughly two months after the gaming event happen, and so two months since you’d seen Mark face to face, that things started to change.

“Ah, [y/n]!” Called Spock, from his office, as you walked past, “could you come in here please?”

You nodded, with a yawn, and moved into the man's extremely cold office. You slumped down into one of the chairs and looked at him through weary eyes. Ah, Monday morning blues, the second contender to the ever-so-dreadful Sunday evening blues.

"I’ve got a proposition for you,” said the old man, who’s trilby was balanced carefully on a hat rack beside his desk, “I think you’d be pretty interested.”

“Okay,” you said, expecting him to send you on another quest to document a dog shelter or something similar to that - as he’d sent you to one of those before.

“We’ve been talking with a few of our sister companies,” he explained, leaning back in his dark leather chair and folding his arms, “and we’re considering doing a, uh, sort of exchange program.”

You perked up, eyes opening a little wider. You sat up straight. You had only ever heard of the sister companies - same company, different location. There were a few in parts of Europe, but there were also a few in the states. Your attention was on the black haired man. He continued, noticing your interest.

“Our guys over in LA want to send us a couple of their workers. Seeing as we’re the head office, they want their little guys to learn how to be proper photographers - not that they’re bad - but they don’t have our kind of discipline. And so, I offered a trade. I was real impressed by your documentation of Eurogamer, so I thought I’d offer you this; I send you to them, they send me their flops and I’d set ‘em straight.”

He stopped speaking and waited for your response, but your mouth was hanging agape in awe and surprise. Your workplace wanted to send you to America. But, not only that, they wanted to send you to the exact place where Markiplier lived. Not only the same state, but the same city.

“Yes,” you blurted, squeezing your hands together in excitement. Your chest fluttered dangerously, you immediately wanted to message Mark and tell him, “yes.”

“Yes?” Spock parroted, raising an eyebrow, with a goofy smile spreading across his features, “good! I knew you’d be up for the challenge. Their american team might be perky and happy and good at customer interaction, but they need a little more training on camera use and proper angles and all that hubbub. You’re a talented girl, [y/n], you’re good for this. Anyway, my coffee is due any minute now, so you better skedaddle. HR will be sending you the details via email, but just to clarify, it’ll be a month's excursion. Paid. Leaving in a couple weeks, so I hope you’ve got a passport. Well done for earning this, you deserve it.”

Walking back to your desk in almost a daze, you set down your bag and plopped down into your chair. A whole five minutes passed before you even remembered to turn your machine on. And it took another five to realise someone was standing next to you, trying to get your attention.

“[y/n],” Sam chirped, a sly tone to her voice, “you are a lucky one!”

You looked up at her with an innocence in your eyes, the shock of the offer still coursing through you.

“Oh, Sam. I am lucky.”

“It’s a good thing I work right next to Jessie from HR,” she said with a wink, “and it’s a good thing we get along, because guess who I recommended for the LA trip.”

You gasped, “it was you who got me into the exchange?!”

She nodded, grinning, “uh huh!”

Standing up, you enveloped the girl in a hug, and she hugged you back tightly, speaking into your hair, “and don’t you dare say I never do anything for you!"

“You. Are. The. Best,” you said to her, leaning back and gripping her shoulders, and she shrugged, looking away, “god, and modest!”

“So long as you get to see Mark again,” she sung lightly, squeezing your hand and meandering back over to her seat. You sat back down in yours and tried to control your breathing. You were going to get to see Mark again.

You whipped your phone out from your bag and quickly tapped out a message to him.

 

To: Mark Fischbach

Mark. Markmarkmark. I have news. like, really big news. you’re gonna like it! xxxx

 

Yes, you put four kisses. But heck, you were excited, and he had all the rights in the world to be excited too! You couldn’t bear to hide it any longer. This man appealed to you in ways no other guy had. Over the last two months, the connection you’d built up with him online made you almost burst with emotions. And you were absolutely positive that those feelings were reciprocated. You wanted absolutely nothing more than to see his cheeky smile in person.

Your phone buzzed quickly on the wooden desk, and you snatched it up to read the message. Obviously, it was from Mark.

 

From: Mark Fischbach

Ooh, someone’s excited! go on then, tell me the goss’! xxxx

 

You could feel an electricity of excitement pulsing through your fingertips, and you stared at those four kisses in excitement. Four! Four whole kisses! For the two months you had been talking over text messages, it had stuck at a solid two. But, you hadn’t time to think about that. You typed out your message, having to retype some words countless times due to your shaking excitement.

 

To: Mark Fischbach

In two weeks, my work is sending me to another part of the company to train people. guess where is is. La. as in your la. like, los angeles. seriously. for a month. i’ll be in la for a whole MONTH. xxxx

 

His reply was almost instant, and you felt your face redden with the amount of excitement that filled you.

 

From: Mark Fischbach

oh my god

 

For the rest of the day, you found it extremely hard to concentrate. Work seemed to take a backseat as you excitedly exchanged emails and texts with Mark about things you could do together, and places he could show you. You eventually replied to the email from HR about the actual trip itself, and within a few hours it was all set in stone, all you had to do was photocopy your passport and send the copy over to them.

You were going to Los Angeles.


	15. Chapter 15

“And remember,” Sam’s voice bleated through your phone, “don’t have sex on the first date!”

“Sam!” You retaliated, in shock, “seriously, you seem like, way more into this than I am!”

“Oh c’mon,” she groaned into your ear, though you could tell she was smiling, “I totally ship you two.”

You rolled your eyes, “yeah, yeah. I gotta go. Coach is here.”

“Alright,” Sam cheerfully said into your ear, “have fun! Keep in touch!”

“I will, buh-bye.”

You tapped the end call button on your phone's screen, and watched as the large pale beige coach pulled up before you. You hastily slung your large suitcase into its outside compartment, and then gave your name to the driver, who ticked you off and let you find a seat. Excitement was bubbling up from inside you as the vehicle prepared to leave.

“Uh, excuse me, are you ?” A timid voice spoke, just as you were about to stick your earphones in.

“Yes?” You looked up at the woman. She had mousy brown hair which was tightly curled across her head, resulting in a sort of afro effect. Her thin-rimmed glasses were ever so slowly slipping down her small, angled nose.

“I work for the, um, travel company. We’re required to ask about your accommodation and travel after you leave Los Angeles International. Most other exchange employees are staying in long term hotels, but I haven’t got anything down for you.”

“Oh,” you said with a smile, “I’ve got a friend who's taking me in.”

The lady nodded and wandered down the aisle, back to her own seat, and you looked triumphantly out of the window. That’s right, you were being picked up from the airport by Mark, and he had a spare room which he was more than happy to offer you. It was all happening like a dream, really, and honestly, it felt like one too. You had to pinch yourself just to check that you weren’t going to open your eyes and find yourself tucked up in bed, at any second. You smiled as the little pinpricks of pain shot up your arm. You were totally not dreaming.

In all honesty, you were a little surprised that Mark was letting you stay at his own home, but it was only for a month, and he seemed more than happy to have you over. Your new work building wasn’t far from his home anyway, so you would be able to catch a taxi in on most days.

As the coach pulled away and rumbled on towards the airport, your thoughts drifted to how the meeting was going to be when you arrived in LA. Would he be holding a sign with your name on it? What if you arrive before he does? Your thoughts wandered on, and your eyes slipped shut as you entered a light sleep.

\---

It still didn’t seem real by the time you had checked in and were sitting in your seat on the plane, staring out of the small window at the expanse of sea and clouds below. When the air hostesses offered you a drink from their trolley, you paid in dollars, more excited to use American money than to actually have a drink. The middle aged woman who sat beside you could see your excitement.

“Holiday?” She asked casually, accent American, as she flipped through the in-flight magazine.

You shuffled in your seat slightly, excited even to speak to an American besides Mark, “sort of. I’ll be working for my current employer, just overseas. For a month.”

“Ooh,” she cooed, “that does sound exciting. You’ll love LA.”

With that, she stuck her nose back into her magazine, and you returned to staring out of the window, ogling at the fluffy clouds which bobbed along, many hundreds of feet below. It really was amazing you that you were headed to America, to see the man that you had found yourself crushing on. Of course, you were also there to work, but seeing him was definitely also a priority.

\---

You had always loved planes, and as the wheels touched down on the runway tarmac, the whole situation got all that more real. You were in America. And you were moments away from being reunited with Mark. Two months seemed like forever, but the whole travelling to the US felt like mere seconds - you were just that excited.

Soon, you found yourself waiting impatiently for your suitcase, as a whole collection of them slowly made their way around the curved conveyor belt. Eventually though, you spotted your large bag and heaved it over onto its wheels - you’d almost forgotten how much stuff you had crammed into it; after all, it had to last you a month.

Your suitcase was one of the last to appear on the conveyer belt, and so you had to follow the last of the dwindling crowd towards the arrivals section. Your heart fluttered and strained in your chest, and the suitcase handle felt slippery in your clammy hand - all of a sudden you hoped you looked okay. Was your hair still how you liked it after so many hours of flying? You didn’t look all hot and bothered, did you? Did you smell okay? As you rounded the corner and was greeted with the arrivals section of the airport, and your eyes scanned the crowds. Looking for pink. Looking for that wavy tuft of hair that you just couldn’t wait to ruffle up and play with - if he’d even let you do that.

You strolled over towards the area where people were holding up signs for other people, and your heart suddenly leapt in your chest. Pink hair. A smile broke out onto your face as Mark emerged from a crowd of people, smile as equally broad. He rushed towards you and brought you straight into a hug, and you hugged back. Relief and happiness washed across you - it felt as if you and him had been separated an entire lifetime. The general business and noise of the airport around you continued to happen as he held you tight against his chest and locked his arms around you, with you relishing every moment. You never wanted to leave that exact spot, or feel anything other than what you felt in that moment.

Though, it had to end. Mark pulled away from you, looking as happy as anything. There was that smile you had been waiting so long to see.

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” he breathed, stepping away, all of a sudden looking embarrassed and flustered. Probably because you’d both hugged each other a little bit longer than just friends would.

“Well, I am,” you said with a laugh, adjusting your hand on your suitcases handle, “to be honest. I can’t really believe it either.”

“Was the flight okay?”

“It really was, the seats were so comfy. Which is weird considering my HR team booked the cheapest seat possible.”

He shrugged at you, with a smile, and you found that your heart was doing all sorts of flips and twists in your chest. The very idea that you get to spend more time with this man was making you the happiest you’d ever felt. It was just a question of whether or not he felt the same. Well, surely he did, seeing as he had absolutely no problems with you just coming over to America and staying in his house for a month.

“Shall we go?” He spoke, voice soft, though you could see the excitement in his eyes, “I got a cab waiting.”

You nodded at him, and he grinned at you, leading you out towards the airports exit.


	16. Chapter 16

“This is the room you’ll be in,” Mark said, swinging open a white painted door, to reveal a generic looking room with generic looking bed, he frowned at you, “yeah, uh, you can spruce it up as much as you like. You can kinda tell it's not used, right?”

“I can think of a few improvements I could make,” you said through a laugh, walking to the centre of the room and gently dumping your suitcase at the foot of your new bed. With a huff, you laid back on top of the duvet with your arms spread, “I am so shattered.”

You could hear Mark by the doorway, “well, travelling does that I guess! Anywho, I gotta do some editing. If you wanna unpack and stuff, we can order pizza for the evening. I bet you’re super hungry.”

Looking up from the bed, your heart almost melted at the sight of the smiling man, leaning against the door frame.

“That sounds absolutely lovely.”

“Brilliant! I’ll see you soon.”

Mark left the doorway, and the white door slowly slid shut. You pulled yourself to a sitting position and took the time to examine the room a little more. The bedsheets were blue with white polka dots, which in all honesty you didn’t mind, but you were probably going to buy new ones anyway. There was an empty shelf on the opposite side of the room, and a chest of drawers next to it, adorned with a table lamp and some flowers on its surface.

There was also a desk to the right of the room, near a window. All in all, the room wasn’t that bad.

You started to set out your clothes into the chest of drawers, and put out a few belongings, including your laptop, phone charger, and a few decorations that you’d brought along. You glanced at the time on your phone, and discovered that it was 7pm. Which meant you’re body clock was tuned into thinking that it is about 5am. Your stomach growled precariously, and your eyelids felt heavy.

Curiously, you left your room and walked down the hall, locating the bathroom. There was a door open at the end of the hall, and you could see Mark tapping away at his keyboard. You approached the door slowly and cleared your throat. He glanced up and smiled at you.

“Hey, [y/n],” he grinned, “I’m pretty much done now, so, you wanna order pizza or something? Whatever you wanna do.”

You felt flustered, “we can order pizza, yeah. I feel like I’m about to fall asleep where I stand, though.”

He whipped out his phone and looked up at you, “I’ve got an app for pizza. If you go downstairs into the lounge, there should be a blanket on the sofa. Grab the TV remote and get comfy, I’ll order us a pepperoni?”

His voice was soothing, and you almost felt like you could fall asleep where you stood, just listening to him. You nodded slowly and whispered you thanks, trudging back into your bedroom, closing the door behind you. Sluggishly, you undressed and redressed in one of the sets of pyjamas you had brought with you, alongside some large fluffy socks, and then started down the hallway and down the stairs.

After almost collapsing onto the sofa and curling up beneath the soft throw blanket, you could already feel yourself slipping away into a drowsy sleep. To try and keep yourself awake, you clawed at the table beside you for the television remote and fiddled around with it. The TV burst into life, and you eventually navigated to a movie channel, that just so happened to be showing 21 Jump Street. It was just starting.

As you slipped in and out of consciousness, you felt a pressure at the end of the sofa, and you gently opened your eyes to see Mark perched on the other side, trying his hardest to not touch your feet. You mumbled an apology, which he didn’t hear, and drew your feet up to your chest.

“It’s okay,” he said quietly, now noticing you, “go back to sleep, [y/n].”

You took note of the fact he had also dressed out of his day clothes, adorning instead some batman-printed pyjama bottoms, and a plain black t-shirt.

“I like you’re pyjama bottoms,” you mumbled almost incoherently, and you saw a cheeky smile spring onto the man's face, though you babbled on, “batman is awesome…”

“Someone’s tired,” he chuckled, “but, thanks. I like them too.”

Even though you were about 80% asleep at that point, your heart gave you little flutter in your chest, and spurred you awake a little more. You felt the heat rush to your face as you realised you had just complimented the man on his pyjamas. You felt like an idiot. You groaned and pulled the blanket up to your face, burrowing yourself a little deeper into its warmth. A burst of confidence zipped through your mind, and you peeked back over the throw to glance at the pink haired man.

“Mark,” you started, as the man averted his gaze from the television to you, “would you like some blanket?”

He looked a little taken aback, which worried you at first, but as a smile slowly spread across his face - and even in the dimly lit room, it looked nice - you realised that he definitely did want to share the warmth of the large fluffy blanket with you. He quickly shuffled closer to you, and you felt the urge to again draw your legs closer to your body, until he opened his mouth to speak.

“You can rest your legs on me, if you’d rather stretch out,” he said softly, as you eyed him suspiciously.

“I dunno,” you replied under your breath, “my feet are probably real grim after being up and about all day long. Plus I didn’t want to just waltz into your house and lay all over your stuff.”

“Alright, alright,” he said calmly, “then how about the other way around?”

You paused, and sat up a little. His deep brown eyes were watching you expectantly. You stammed slightly, “What… like.. you be my, um, pillow?”

He merely grinned as he spoke, not taking into account your nerves, “yeah. I’m sure I’m comfier than that arm rest.”

As you sat up all the way, and gently swivelled around on the sofa, you were fully aware that your heartrate was going through the roof. All over again, your hands felt a little clammy, and you worried what you looked like. A part of your subconscious kicked you - what does it matter? It’s dark as it is! Just enjoy yourself!

Slowly, you lowered your head onto his lap, and brought the blanket up to cover you both. The warmth of his stomach against your head, and arms as they rest either side of you was enough to make you almost fall asleep right then - but knowing you were touching him and getting to be just with him was enough to keep you awake. You could feel every breath he took, and could just about hear his heartbeat. Then, he hugged you a little closer, and you stared out at the television in awe and excitement. His thumb gently caressed at your upper arm, above the blanket, and you let your eyes slide shut.

“Mark?” You asked quietly, after a while.

“Yes?” He responded, and your stomach clenched slightly as you felt his voice reverberating through your head, as it rest against him.

“Thank you, for letting me stay here.”

You could almost feel him smile as he spoke, “hey, it’s fine,” he said lowly, voice deep and quiet, “better than some shabby hotel, I hope.”

You smiled, eyes sliding shut again, “it’s perfect.”

\---

“Psst, [y/n],” Mark ushered, crouched beside you on the floor, head level with yours. You slowly blinked at him and realised he had managed to get off of the sofa without waking you. He said nothing more as the smell of pizza wafted to your nose, and you almost shot up in your seat, he sensed your happiness and smiled, “so you guessed, pizza’s here.”

“I didn’t even know pizza could be delivered this late!” You said, astounded, as you sluggishly pulled yourself up to a sitting position.

“It’s more like early, now,” Mark said, as he sat down beside you and placed the pizza box on the coffee table that separated the sofa from the television.

Your chest felt a little heavy, “if it’s so late - or early, you didn’t have to stay up. You could have gone to bed if you wanted to.”

“It’s alright,” he smiled, as he opened the box and picked up a couple of the pieces, “gotta make sure my guest is all settled in before I sleep myself.”

You gave him a sideways glance, “such a gentlemen.”

He handed you a slice of pizza and raised it in the air slightly as if he were to give a toast - you grinned and did the same.

“Enjoy the pizza, m’lady.”

“I shall… m’.... uh, m’sir?”

And as you ate pizza together, at God knows what time in the morning, you laughed.


	17. Chapter 17

You wandered down the stairs to the sound of Mark on the phone, and the smell of toast which greeted you eagerly. With a yawn, you walked into the large, open kitchen and perched yourself on a barstool. The man in question was facing away from you, phone in one hand and a piece of toast in the other. He waved the buttered food around precariously as he spoke with enthusiasm.

“Oh, you’re having fun then!” He chirped into his phone. You sighed to yourself quietly and picked up a pear from the fruit bowl on the table next to you. Mark didn’t even notice as you took a bite, and you were then extra careful to not get pear juice all over yourself.

“Good… Good,” Mark mused, taking a quick bite of his dark toast as the person on the other end of the line spoke, he hummed a response with his mouth still full, then paused to swallow before he responded, “okay. A week? That’s fine, the house’ll be tidy. No, don’t get yourself in a huff about it. I got an extra pair of hands to help out. Yeah. Only whilst he’s away seeing his parents. Yes. Yeah. She’ll be fine. Yes, I changed out the sheets and tidied. Yes, she’s a she. Okay. Quit worrying. Speak to you soon. Bye.”

He tapped the end call button and placed his phone gently down on the kitchen, taking the last bite of his toast. This time, when you took a bite into your pear, he spun around and gasped at you, and you just stared back, wide eyed, trying to look completely normal whilst eating your fruit.

“[y/n]!” He greeted, looking fairly surprised, “how long have you been there?”

You shrugged and wiped at your mouth with your sleeve, “I dunno, probably like a minute, tops.”

He smiled at you and changed the subject, voice softening, “so, you sleep well?”

You nodded, “late night pizza kinda woke me up a little, but the second my head hit that pillow, I was out like a light.”

He picked up his phone from the kitchen side and slid it into his khaki shorts, he smiled at you and clapped his hands together happily, “I’d offer to give a tour of the place but I’m a pretty busy guy, I’ve got videos to record and edit over the whole weekend, to be ready for next week.”

“Oh,” you said simply, and he quickly looked apologetic.

“Sorry, I mean, I’ll still make time. We’ll get you settled.”

“It’s okay,” you said, finishing your pear and waving it at him, “is there a shop nearby? I wanna wander somewhere and buy more pears.”

“Oh, I can take you, there’s a grocer's about a 15 minute walk away from-”

“-it’s okay,” you repeated, interrupting, “you’re a busy man. I’ll find it.”

With that, you jumped off from the stool and deposited the pear core in the rubbish bin. You had some money in your back pocket, so just went to grab your phone and earphones, leaving the house and wandering slowly down the road. It was fairly warm, and you were thankful. Whipping out your phone, you opened google maps and searched for a nearby store - discovering that Mark was right, there was one fifteen minutes away.

As you continued on, you started to feel increasingly guilty. Were to too harsh on Mark just then? You were fairly quick to leave without giving him a chance to talk. Plus, he’d been kind enough to let you live in his house for an entire month, and you got all hurt and offended when he told you that he still had to work himself - he wasn’t going to drop all for you. You gently slowed to a stop, and instantly someone bumped into you. Toppling over, you cried out as you grazed your hands on the sidewalk. Almost instantly, you heard a bumbling apology, and you were quickly rushed to your feet by an extremely flustered Mark.

“Mark?” You questioned, eyes wide. Gently, you clasped your hands together so you could hide the damage from him - and yourself, really.

“Sorry - I - Well, I’m sorry that, uh, back at, um-”

“Ssh,” you hushed, smiling up at the man as he tried to compose himself, you reached out and brushed some dirt from his shoulder, careful to point your stinging palms away from his line of sight, “you were right to follow me. I was probably going to get lost anyway. So, thank you, and, I’m sorry I was so blunt, inside.”

He seemed to relax a little, and he shrugged at you with an almost childlike demeanour; bashful. Some of his pink fringe fell slowly over his eyes, and he spoke with a low voice, “I didn’t mean to offend. It’s just I’m a busy person, but I’ll be trying to make time to get you settled in. I promise.”

You smiled, “and I’ll try to not be so angsty.”

With a toothy grin, he held out his arm to you, and you gently threaded your arm through his, careful again to have his gaze avoid your painfully scraped palms. Then, arm in arm, you walked in the complete other direction, towards the grocer’s. Oh, so you were going the wrong way.


	18. Chapter 18

Authors Note: Not gonna lie, this was my favourite chapter to write so far.

 

“Maybe some raspberries, too?” You questioned, picking up a punnet and examining the small red berries that it held, “we could make smoothies. And I’d like to take some to work.”

Mark nodded, and you popped them in your shopping basket.

Since you had arrived at the store, you’d realised there was a lot more that you actually wanted to buy - so it pretty much turned into a complete shopping trip. Your hands still stung from the little tumble you and Mark had outside, and carrying the basket as it got heavier and heavier made your fingers burn. You tried to look inconspicuous as you juggled the basket from hand to hand.

As you moved through the aisles together, you noticed Mark stealing glances at you, and you were almost flattered, but only up until you realised he had seen your basket juggling. He stopped you in the middle of the fresh vegetables isle and spoke quietly, looking a mix of curious and concerned;

“Are you okay?”

You blinked up at him, “um, yes?”

He seemed to think for a few moments, pouting at you, “can I... See your hands?”

Worry spiked through you, “oh, uh, why would - uh, you want to see my hands?”

He gently took the shopping basket from you, putting it on the floor. Then, he took both of your hands in his. Your breath hitched in your throat, now not knowing whether to concentrate in the stinging pain of your palms, of the warm, soft feel of his hands gently holding yours. You watched, silent, as he raised your hands up closer to his face, grip gentle. Then, he turned your hands over, revealing the scrapes and scratches you had received from catching yourself against the sidewalk - there was a gentle flow of dried and fresh blood that had stained the crooks and crannies of your skin. You frowned at your own hands, having had no idea that the wounds were really that bad - you expected a cut, or something, but not full on blood and scrapes. It did hurt, but you had just tried to ignore it.

“Holy shit,” Mark murmured, then he tore his eyes up to meet yours, “is this from outside? Why didn’t you say anything?!”

You struggled to find your voice, as you stared into his eyes, “hassle.”

His grip on your wrists tightened only momentarily, then his features softened. Your heart did confused flips and tumbles in your chest, and you were a mixture of happy, in pain, and on the verge of tears. He raised your shaking hands up to his face and gently planted a small kiss on each of your palms, careful to dodge the wounds themselves. Still in shock, you let yourself get pulled into a hug, and he squeezed you enthusiastically. You tried to hug him back, but you didn’t want to touch his shirt with your hands, so opted to awkwardly hugging him with your arms. You felt his hands grip at your back as he buried his face in your hair and squeezed a little harder.

Almost feeling dizzy with shock, all you could do was stare at the man as he pulled away from you and scanned you worriedly with his eyes. He held your upper arms and sighed, and you sighed back, but probably not for the same reasons he was.

“We’ll quickly buy what we have now,” he spoke, voice low and gravelly as he tried to be quiet, “and then we’ll go home so I can fix your hands. It’s one hundred percent my fault that you hurt yourself this bad, and I promise, that I will make it up to you.”

You near enough melted where you stood, and found that all you could do was nod quickly at him. He took you gently by the arm and shuffled you towards the checkout, at which you quickly paid for your food and drink. Once you were out of the store, you looked at the man apologetically.

“I’m sorry,” you said under your breath, “I didn’t want to get you all worried about it.”

“[y/n],” he spoke, still holding gently onto your arm, “if I’d have known you’d hurt yourself, I would have brought you straight back home. It looks painful. Is it?”

You tried not to look him in the eye, but nodded slowly. You heard him audibly groan, before he squeezed your arm and started to lead you back in the direction of his house.


	19. Chapter 19

Mark gently dabbed an antiseptic wipe against your left palm, and you winced with a hiss. He merely said nothing and continued. After he’d managed to clean your hands, he squeezed them gently.

“Does that hurt?”

“Not so much, any more,” you replied, feeling a heat rise through your cheeks. You were blushing, “thanks.”

He sat back and smiled, “it’s no problem. My fault, anyway.”

Even though you were appreciative of what he’d done for you, you couldn’t help but feel totally and utterly infatuated with him. Over the last half an hour, from the moment he discovered your minor injury, he had non stop been touching you - feeling your hands, squeezing your arm, and that one hug in the grocer’s store that almost made you melt on the spot. You weren’t entirely sure you were going to make it till the end of the day if he kept it up.

“Will you be alright for work, tomorrow?” He asked, and you frowned a little. You hadn’t really thought about that - and a huge part of you didn’t really want to go to work, you wanted to just spend the entire day with Mark.

“Yes,” you admitted, “it barely hurts now, so tomorrow should be fine. The scratches aren’t even as bad as they looked earlier.”

“True,” he agreed, reaching for your arm and giving it a squeeze. You couldn’t help but think he was taking the opportunity to be touchy feely as far as he could, as if he wanted to get as much out of being close to you before you didn’t exactly need him to comfort you any more. Butterflies coursed excitedly through your chest.

For a few moments, you sat opposite each other on his couch, and he smiled at you warmly. You wanted nothing more than for him to just lean that tiny bit closer, to wrap his hand gently around to the back of your head and close the gap that was-

“Wanna watch me film a youtube video?” The man blurted happily, and you fluttered your eyes in surprise, where on earth was the previous train of thought headed?

“Uh, yeah, totally,” you agreed, and he stood up, taking you gingerly by the hand to bring you to your feet. The skin to skin contact made your senses fluster.

Once you had settled into his recording room, you looked up at all of the soundproofing, giving some of the foam a poke, out of curiosity. You got that the man was loud and shouted a lot, but surely this was excessive?

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea to have you in the shot,” he started, and you eyed him suspiciously, so he continued with a haste, “because my subscribers don’t know you’re here. They’ll kick up a fuss and a half, and I honestly don’t wanna go disabling the comments.”

You grinned, “you think they’d have a lot to say about me?”

He smiled and patted a chair that was to his left, “more like a lot of things to say about us.”

You mouthed an ‘oh’ before slowly perching yourself on the leather seat, watching as the man prepared himself with his headset, sorting his hair so it poked out at just the right angles. He caught you watching and flashed you a toothy grin, and you smiled back, feeling happiness fill you to the brim. The very idea that you were spending real one on one time with Mark was elating your emotions; a lot of people would kill for a position like this - being able to watch him record a video live.

“What are you going to be playing?” You asked, with a smile, and he shot you a cheeky one back.

“A game called Song of Horror - say, do you like horror games?”

“In all honesty,” you replied with a small smile, “I only could ever manage watching other people - like you - play them. I’m not one for actually doing the playing.”

He shrugged, but you could tell he was happy that you mentioned that you watched his videos. He adjusted himself in his seat and started up his recording software, giving you one last glance until he got himself engrossed in the game. You watched, amazed, as he greeted his audience through the camera and spoke into his high-tech microphone. As he played, you tried your hardest not to jump out of your skin every time a jump scare came about. You found, after a while, that you much preferred watching him than you did watching the game - so opted to sneakily observe him as he spoke and yelled - and he was far too engrossed to notice this.

After a while, the game came to an end.

“and so, everybody,” he spoke through a laugh at the camera, “thankyou for watching, and I will see you in the next video, buh bye!”

A grin broke out onto your face as he spoke his trademark video ending, and he turned off the camera. He turned to you with an exasperated look, and an expression that was waiting your response.

“That was brilliant,” you breathed, “and watching you live was even better than I thought it was going to be!”

He flaunted a toothy grin and clasped his hands together, clearly that was the reaction he hoped you would have.

“It was actually really nice to have someone on the sidelines, watching me play. I kinda felt like I was actually talking to someone instead of just a camera, for once.”

You grinned back at him, “well, you know that millions of people watch you every day. You know that people get to see you.”

He shrugged and leant back in his seat, “I dunno, this is different, obviously. I liked having you here.”

Your heart did little flips and twirls in your chest, and you managed to squeak out a laugh, just as he stood up from his seat and gave a quick stretch. You watched, fascinated, as his moved his arms out either side of him with a loud yawn. Every single bit of you wanted to reach out and touch his biceps, as they looked so damn touchable, but you stopped yourself, for obvious reasons.

“So, you hungry?” He asked, “maybe we could cook up some of that food we bought.”

“Oh, uh,” you stammered, drawing your attention back to him, “yeah, sure. How about pasta?”

He nodded at you, and you both left his room, back down into the kitchen, where you began preparing a meal - making sure there were enough leftovers for you to be able to take some to work the next day.

\----------

 

You perched on the edge of the sofa, chewing absentmindedly on some of the pasta you had forked into your mouth, watching the television intently. Just as you were about to take another bite, you phone vibrated in your pocket. You set your bowl down on the table in front of you and pulled your smartphone from your pocket - it was a text from Sam.

-

From: Sammy <3

So! Missy! You two kissed yet? ...or sharing a bed yet?? ;) xxxxxx

-

You almost choked on the pasta you were still chewing, and Mark perked up from beside you, his bowl balanced precariously on his lap. You quickly tilted your phone's screen away without trying to look to obvious, and typed your reply.

-

To: Sammy <3

oi! he’s sitting right next to me, you nitwit! and no! i’ve only been here like what, two days! xxxxxxx

-

You sighed to yourself and dropped your phone down onto the low coffee table, opting to ignore her for now, and get back to eating your dinner. You scooped up the bowl and brought it to your lap, digging back in with your fork. After a few minutes of watching the episode of Family Guy that was on television, your phone vibrated again, this time much louder against the wooden table, with its screen illuminating. You could see the text from where you were sitting.

-

From: Sammy <3

Whaat, so he’s not kissed you yet? Godddd, that means you might have to make the first move! ;p lyl xxxxxxx

-

Leaning forward, you popped your bowl back onto the table, reaching out for your phone. That girl is seriously going to bring out my bad side, you thought to yourself, cheeky little-

“Damn,” Mark suddenly said in a hushed tone, and your head snapped up to look at him, shock filling you. His eyes were trained on your phone’s bright screen, and then, they looked up to meet yours.


	20. Chapter 20

“I, uh, I can explain,” you stammered, and you quickly stuffed your phone into your pocket. Mark's eyes were still trained on yours, his expression stoney. Your heart raced at what felt like a million beats per minute, and anticipation filled you to the brim. You could see his hands clenching a little tighter around his bowl of food.

“It’s alright,” he spoke quietly, after what felt like an eternity. He finally broke eye contact to glance at the television screen, “it’s fine. I’m going to, uh, get an early night. I think.”

You didn’t have a chance to say anything more, before he tore his gaze away from you and roughly set his bowl down on the coffee table. You jumped slightly at the loud impact sound. Mark quickly walked away, up the stairs and into his room. Biting your lip, you checked the time on your phone. It was 5pm - there was no way he was actually going to be going to bed, he was probably going to film more videos, or do some quick editing. Fear lashed through you as you sat back into the sofa and let out a long sigh.

Was he angry? Embarrassed? From what you had gathered from his actions in the past and throughout that day, he was pretty damn interested in you - you had seen all of the signs, hell, you were positive he liked you. Yeah, he saw that you had kissing on the mind, from Sam’s text, but surely he’d have just had his feelings confirmed, and just gone for it?

Your thoughts dwindled to one lonely sentence.

Maybe he doesn’t like me, like that.

Groaning, you pulled yourself up from the sofa and switched off the television, before grabbing both yours and Marks bowls of leftovers and taking them into the kitchen, depositing the leftovers into a small Tupperware, which you then slipped onto a shelf in the fridge. Then, you dragged yourself up the stairs and stood in the hallway for a few moments, staring quietly at Mark’s closed door. You couldn’t hear anything, but you weren’t sure whether that was just him being quiet, or his soundproofing doing its thing. Silently, you slipped into your bedroom, and changed into your pyjamas.

Since you were still rather jet lagged, you opted to actually go to bed. Drawing the curtains closed, you crawled under the sheets and laid on your side, staring at the text from Sam on your phone, her words repeating over and over in your mind.

That means you might have to make the first move.

Hell, if there was ever a chance of you and him being a thing, then you felt that it had been somewhat diminished. What you really needed to do, was talk to him about what he saw, and soon.

You closed your eyes and sighed, willing yourself to sleep. Though, your brain was buzzing. Thoughts zipped in and out of your mind about Mark, what he was currently doing, whether he was feeling okay, whether he was lying in bed contemplating things, just as you were. Sleep definitely was not going to come any time soon. Rolling onto your back, you stared up through the dim light, at the ceiling, and sighed.

After what felt like forever, there was a timid knock on your door, and your whole body tensed. Unless either of Mark’s housemates had returned home a whole week early, then it was Mark himself. Hesitantly, you spoke.

“Um, come in?”

The door opened a crack, and a slither of yellow light shone through. Through the gap, you saw Mark, with an apologetic look. When he noticed you looking at him with worry and confusion, he opened the door more and stood awkwardly in its frame, gripping at his forearm nervously.

“Oh, you’re going to bed?” He said after a few moments, and you blinked at him quietly before responding.

“Weren’t you?”

He looked around the room, “oh, uh, yeah I was, but it’s still pretty early, I can’t really sleep at this time.”

“Me either,” you replied quietly, sitting up in your bed and brushing some hair behind your ear. You could feel your pulse dangerously thumping away in your fingertips. You were glad it was dim in your bedroom.

A silence fell across you both, and he shifted his weight from foot to foot in the doorway. Then, he locked eyes with you and drew a long breath.

“Can I come in, quick?”

You frowned. It was his house, and he was asking if he could come in? Well, it was your room for the time being, and you had to have some privacy. Despite that, you had a feeling you knew what he wanted to talk to you about.

“Sure.”

He flashed a small smile - one completely unlike the normal personality of Mark, and shuffled quickly into the room, letting the door fall shut behind him, until only that slither of light peeked through again. You drew yourself back and crossed your legs beneath the sheets, so he could perch at the end of your bed. He looked around and you could just about make out him squinting.

“You’ve decorated the place quite nice,” he spoke with a gentle voice. You shuffled around in your spot, slightly.

“Uh, yeah,” you replied, “I didn’t bring much stuff. But, enough to liven up the room. I guess.”

Your mouth started babbling before your brain had a chance to try and reason with it.

“Mark, I’m sorry you saw that text.”

He gave a nervous laugh and stretched his arms out in front of him, “ah-ha, well, that’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

You rolled your eyes at him, even though he probably couldn’t see, “God, you sound like a concerned parent.”

“Well, it’s not really like that…” He said, looking to you through the dark. You stared back at him, with your hands clasped together - they were clammy. Which meant you were nervous. You noticed, with nerves running high, that he had shimmied a little closer to you on the edge of the bed, all the while trying to make it look totally not obvious. You flicked your eyes up to meet his and sucked in a deep breath. He stopped shuffling.

For a few moments, all you could heard was the gentle breathing which came from both you and him, and then, in all but a few seconds, as you leant forward, Mark shifted a little and closed the gap. You felt his hands gently rest against yours.

You could feel the tension and nerves pulse through the air; it was almost electric.

He said nothing more, and then raised a hand up to gently to cup your cheek. Warmth enveloped your face slowly. Your eyes fluttered instinctively, and then, without warning, he pulled you into an embrace, burying his head into the crook of your shoulder. Quickly, you let your arms drape around his back and clasp at him tightly.

“I’m sorry I kinda stormed off,” he spoke into your neck. The close proximity of his voice made you shiver slightly, “I didn’t really know how to react. I wasn’t sure.”

You let your face press gently into his neck, you lips only a few millimeters from his skin, with your cheek pressed against it - you murmured your response slowly.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry, too. Sam can kinda be a bit over the top, sometimes…”

He shifted his grip around you and spoke after only a few moments, his voice was only just timid, “she can?”

You pulled out of the warm hug and looked the man in the eyes, his arms were still hooked around your body and yours were still clasped around his neck, his breath swam across your face. If your heart rate could be converted to electrical energy, you could probably power a city for an entire lifetime.

Without warning, he leant forwards slightly, and the breath that swam across your face only moments ago, now engulfed your lips. The contact of his lips upon yours, made you shudder with surprise, and before you knew it, you had reached up to entwine your fingers in his hair, and he did the same to you. Your lips parted and collided over and over, and a heat of happiness rose through you again and again. His gripped the back of your head tightly and pushed you closer towards him, and you gladly obliged, slipping your arms back around his neck and hugging him tightly. Then you parted, both taking a much needed deep breath, and grinning at each other uncontrollably.

“Oh,” you breathed, exasperatedly, as you released your arms from around his neck.

He leant back slightly, still smiling, “oh, indeed.”


	21. Chapter 21

You pressed the lid down gently on the Tupperware until it clicked shut, and then slid it into your bag, alongside a fork and some fruit. As you partially filled your bowl of cereal with milk, two hands gently slithered around your waist for a few moments, before squeezing you quickly and then letting you go. You shivered.

“Good morning, Mark,” you said as you concentrated on pouring the correct amount of milk, “sleep well?”

“I did,” he replied, with an almost sing song voice, “very well, thank you.”

You turned to look at him and he beamed at you, making your chest flutter dangerously. His pink hair was faded a little, and he was in need of a little trim, but he still looking as devilishly handsome as he always had - your mind raced with anticipation and excitement, the very fact that you felt free to think those things, or possibly even voice them, was incredible.

“Good,” you said through a smile, picking up your bowl and wandering over to the dining table, before you ate, you added; “work should be interesting today. I’m looking forward to meeting some new people - plus some of my colleagues from home will be there.”

“That’s really nice,” he responded from over by the kitchen, and you could hear him pouring his own milk into a bowl of cereal, “do you know who else from your work will be there?”

You shrugged, though he probably couldn’t see you, “I didn’t really get a chance to take in any faces when I was sitting on the coach.”

Idle chit chat continued as you hastily ate your food and then checked and re-checked that you had all of the correct stuff to take to your first day in your temporary workplace. The word temporary made your chest ache, but you brushed it aside. You had a whole month to enjoy your time in the US, and thinking about leaving Mark and going home could simply sit and wait.

You stood in the open doorway of Mark’s home and spotted your taxi sitting outside, with the engine ticking over. The cab driver sent you a small wave from the driver's seat, and you waved back. Turning on the spot, Mark approached you and leant steadily against the open door.

“I hope you have a nice day,” he spoke, his deep voice causing your mouth flip into an automatic smile - as it always does, “you know, I’ll miss you, whilst you’re gone.”

“You’ll see me in the evening,” you reminded, though you gripped your bag a little tighter as you added, “but - I’ll... miss you too.”

Mark then pulled you in close, planting a firm kiss on your forehead - much more apparent than he was all that time ago when, at the Eurogamer Expo, he had subtly planted a small kiss on the crown of your head when he hugged you goodbye. You remember those few months of not being with him, as being almost equal to hell. The heart wants what the heart wants, after all.

He let you go, warm hands gripping your upper arms with a small squeeze. Open touch and intimacy was still incredibly new to you both, and you wondered whether the kiss you both shared the night before meant you were an item or not. You weren’t sure. It would probably come up in discussion that evening, when you got home.

Waving your goodbye, you walked over to the taxi and jumped into the back seat, relaying the address to the driver and clipping your seat belt into place. And now, you were putting all of your trust in the driver to take you to a place you’d never set foot before. Nerves twisted throughout your system. Everything was new, and new made you anxious.

\----------------------

“Ah, you’re our exchange tutor, right?” A freshly shaven man in a well fitted black suit bleated, as you stepped into the reception of the Los Angeles branch of your work. You quickly looked around - it seemed everything was made from glass, and the blonde receptionist noticed you glancing around and offered a small smile as your eyes passed over her.

“Tutor. Yes,” you said quickly, not having heard yourself referred as that term before, “and you are?”

“My name is Luke Antonio,” he smiled, perfect teeth showing, he approached you and held out a hand, so you shook it firmly, “and I run this place. Hey, might I say, it’s real nice to have a new face here. Fresh blood and all that.”

You nodded, though weary, “yeah, it was a real surprise to be offered this opportunity. It’s all really exciting.”

He let go of your hand and straightened his navy blue tie, “hey, you weren’t offered this position for being sub par, you’re clearly the best from the team over the great big blue, and we want you to help us.”

“Well, it’s what I’m here for,” you offered with a smile, as the man lead you up some shiny glass steps - presumably to the offices. The smell of his heavy cologne trailed into you as he walked ahead, and your senses flared. He smelled faintly like Mark.

You were shown to your desk, and you planted yourself down daintily.

“Your team,” Luke announced with a lackluster voice, and two young looking men looked up hastily from their seats, one waved awkwardly and the other nodded, both with wide eyes - as if in anticipation of what their boss would say, “this is Glasses, or if you want the pleasantries, Simon, and the guy who still hasn’t taken off that hat-” the man in question quickly pulled his green beanie from his head, revealing a head of curly black hair, “- is Jake.”

“Nice to meet you both,” you spoke, looking between them, “I’m [y/n].”

They both murmured their hello’s.

Luke slapped you on the shoulder heftily and you looked up at him whilst he spoke, “as you can see, they are an absolute barrel of laughs. Have fun getting them to wise up to what photography is all about. That it isn’t just a chance to take photos of the prettiest girls you can find… Jake.”

With that, the man in the suit strode off into a separate office and closed the door. You followed him with your eyes, before looking back at the two men, who were looking at you like deer in headlights. You offered an awkward smile.

“So,” you started, trying to break their silence, “he seems, um, nice.”

“Yeah,” the blonde in glasses, Simon, agreed. He didn’t say anything more.

“I didn’t just take pictures of girls,” Jake quickly protested with a hushed voice, as he pulled his beanie back onto his head, “I took pictures of guys too! And dogs. And if I saw a cool car, I’d take some of that too!”

You looked to your blank computer screen for a few moments, clutching your bag against your chest. Today was going to be a long day.


	22. Chapter 22

The sofa was your true salvation. Pretty much the second your cheek came in contact with the squishy arm rest, you could feel your body give in to sleep. Mark’s voice was barely a whisper in the back of your mind.

“Long day?” The husky voice echoed, and all you could do was groan.

“It’s okay, you stay there, I’ll put you a coffee on. Jetlag must still have you by the ankles.”

You groaned again, barely managing to roll over onto your side.

From between the murmurs of the television and the smell of freshly ground coffee, and the noise of the coffee machine doing its thing, you could only just hear Mark’s quiet musical humming. You managed to squeeze out a smile at the thought of him being so much happier than before - and a part of you wondered what he was thinking, how he was feeling.

You had barely realised that you were drifting off, but the sound of the coffee mug being placed down on the coffee table jolted you awake instantly. Mark settled down on the edge of the sofa, careful to not sit on your legs. He squeezed your hand only but for a moment.

“Wanna tell me how your day went,” he questioned, and you just about managed to tear your eyes open, only to be greeted by a Mark with deep blue hair. You sat up quickly and began running your fingers through it and twirling it between your fingers, still half asleep. He called out to protest but quickly quietened, once he realised how nice it was to have someone play with your hair.

“Blue,” was all you managed to gasp, “it’s blue!”

He gently moved away and you let your hands fall to your lap, “be serious now, does it look okay?”

You nodded, waking up a little, “it looks lovely! Not that the pink looked bad, but this suits you too!”

He looked as if he let out a long breath, “oh thank god. I was worried that you wouldn’t like it at all. I felt I needed a bit of a change, plus the pink was fading quick.”

Carefully, you picked up your steaming cup of coffee and took a couple of sips. The temperature was perfect, but still you couldn’t take your eyes off of his new hairdo. The colour was so deep and contrasting to the pink, yet it also reflected him so well. You felt yourself wanting to kiss him all of a sudden. You knew that you probably could, but it still felt awfully fresh.

“Is there anything else you’ve changed,” you asked, half joking, after a few moments of waking up, to which the man responded with a bashful shrug. Your eyes widened, “what else did you do?”

He coughed and spoke in a inaudible murmur, “I did, uh, mmhm, vide-uh, duh, you-uhhm…”

“What?” You questioned, smiling and putting down your coffee, scooting a little closer to him, “what is it?”

He raised an arm and awkwardly itched the back of his head, and you trained your eyes on his as he tried to look away.

“I might of uh, mentioned you… in a video.”

Your breathing hitched slightly, and you instantly grabbed a pillow, quickly throwing it in his direction, he yelped with a laugh.

“Mark! Me?!” You bellowed, laughing as well, “but what are your fans going to think! I’m gonna get assassinated!”

He chuckled and flipped around, grabbing your wrists as you squirmed, pushing you back onto the sofa and holding you there, you laughed worriedly as his hands tightened around yours roughly.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he growled, demeanour darkening, and voice low. He towered over you as he used his weight to pin your arms down, “they won’t need to assassinate you. I’ve got that covered.”

Worry shot through you, but you knew he was kidding, as the second he was done huskily growling at you, face inches from yours, he broke out into a grin and released your wrists, opting instead to cupping your face and planting a long, gentle, and very unexpected kiss against your lips. You let his warmth envelop you, and eagerly returned the gesture. He breathed happily as he pulled away, and plopped himself down on the sofa beside you.

“It’s okay,” he reassured, “I spoke of you only in a positive light. I think they’ll like you.”

“I hope you’re right,” you warned, feeling hunger kick you in the stomach, “oh, what shall we have for dinner?”

“I’ll knock something up,” he said as he climbed to his feet. He then turned and send you a glare, with his face lowered, “... it might just be you. Take that as you will.”

He chuckled and walked away, leaving you with a pale face and festering thoughts. Knock you up? Like, for a meal? Or with a baby? Your heart raced as-

“I’m kidding by the way,” he called, from over in the kitchen, and you coughed out a laugh, letting yourself fall back against the sofa. Relief washed over you, shortly followed by hunger. To try and occupy yourself, you pulled out your phone and tapped out a text to Sam.

 

To: Sammy <3

Your last text got me in the shit lol. but its okay because he ended up making the first move ;) xxxxxx

-

Her reply was almost instant.

-

From: Sammy <3

O.M.G girl are you serious? a) im sorry and b) ohhh myy goddd. so like what are u 2 dating now? xxxxxxx

 

To: Sammy <3

See I don’t think so. I don’t really wanna ask in case he’s just gonna end it when I come home. gonna have to wait and see lol xxxxx

 

You slipped your phone into your pocket and wandered over to Mark, who was trying to open a packet of frozen instant curry. You gently took it from his hands and easily tore the top half of the packet, giving him a look that could only be described as someone sarcastically asking ‘really?’. He sheepishly shrugged.

“There should be enough in here for you to take leftovers to work, again,” Mark suggested with a smile, pouring the contents of the pouch into a saucepan and adding a little water, “this stuff is great.”

You nodded and stood beside him, watching as he simultaneously defrosted and cooked the rice and chicken as it bubbled away on the hob. You all of a sudden wanted to ask about your friendship - if it was even that any more.

“Mark,” you started, slowly, and he looked up from prodding the food with a wooden spoon. His dark blue hair fell across his eyes slightly, and you smiled softly before continuing, “what… are we?”

He stopped stirring and let the spoon rest gently against the side of the deep frying pan. He didn’t look up. Your heart tugged gently in your chest and your throat felt a little dry - why wasn’t he replying? Still waiting for him to respond, you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, looking at the side of his face intently. You could just about smell the curry as it cooked.

“Mark?”

He started prodding the curry slowly, but still he said nothing. He looked like he was pursing his lips together tightly, and his hair was gently poking him in the eye.

“Okay,” you huffed, “it’s fine. Call me when dinner is done, please?”

With that, you gave the man no more of your time and sauntered upstairs, into your room, closing the door and flopping onto your bed. You felt almost like a child having a tantrum, but at the same time your feelings were slightly torn. They hurt, even. So… did Mark return the feelings? Surely he did, otherwise he would be giving you little kisses and acting so romanced around you. Maybe he was conflicted. Maybe he was thinking heavily about the fact you weren’t in the US forever, and that at some point you were going to have to hop onto a plane and go home.

You sat up and swung your legs around the edge of the bed. You’d been too harsh. Again. You should have given him more time to explain how he was feeling - maybe he was just thinking hard about the subject.

Quickly, feeling the sadness rise through you and bunch up behind your eyes, you pulled the door open and raced down the stairs - to find Mark still working and preparing the rice, chicken and sauce.

“Sorry,” you almost barked, nearly crashing into him as you came to a stop from full speed,“I know I said I’d not get like that again.”

He turned around and looked you in the eye this time, though he was smiling, you could see a hint of sadness in his demeanour, “it’s okay,” he spoke, “I knew you’d come back down.”

“I need to be more patient,” you said, mainly to yourself, “... I’m sorry.”

He laughed, “quit saying sorry, now c’mon, sit down somewhere. I can serve this up now.”

You nodded, feeling a little better, “okay, Mark.”

The relationship talk could probably come later.


	23. Chapter 23

For the whole of the second workday in America, you felt yourself itching to hop into your taxi and escape home. The clock ticked mercilessly away against the wall, and both of the boys under your care were too busy yammering about their personal life - all you found yourself doing was blocking everything out and wanting to get home. After another few dreadfully slow minutes, you quickly slipped your earphones out from your bag and plugged them into your computer, loading up the browser and navigating to YouTube.

You paused and stared at Markiplier’s channel for a few moments.

“Y’know,” came a male voice from your right, and looked to the desk next to you where a well groomed man sat, smirking, “he’s pretty funny. I take it you’ve watched his videos.”

You nervously minimised the page, “oh, um, yeah, I like him. His videos, I mean.”

He nodded, glancing back at his own screen, “yeah. Just a pointer; if you wanna get away with watching YouTube videos in the work day, make the browser small enough so it's just the video visible. Then just set it in the corner of the screen whilst you work.”

Smiling at him, you gave your thanks before maximising the page again and taking a look at Mark’s latest videos. Gently, you slipped in your earphones and watched the video he uploaded the day before. It was a Q&A.

Mark’s face burst onto your screen, and his smile and laugh made your chest ache slightly - you really wanted to get home to see him. He spoke animatedly at the camera, answering some fairly normal questions, a few of which he created little sketches for. In one of these sketches, you spotted a set of your shoes tucked away against the wall, and all over again you felt the wash of satisfaction and sheer unbelievability. You lived with this man. The man with millions of subscribers and the most charming voice of them all.

Then, the video progressed and another question was picked from Twitter. You squinted at the profile picture and your heart sunk, and further so when you read the tweet. The girl was the one from the club in London, the one who desperately tried to hit on Mark.

“So like, when were you gonna tell the world you had a gf? #askmarkiplier #gotagf”

Marks face looked a little tense as he read it out, but you knew it was feigned. After all, he hand picked all of the tweets and questions before he read them out.

“Haha, well,” Mark started, leaning back from the camera a little and adjusting the collar of his shirt, “she isn’t really my girlfriend, yet… I think.”

Your throat tightened nervously, and you could feel the lump forming inside of it. You clasped a hand over your mouth as Mark continued.

“We met a little over a few months back. At the Eurogamer event in London. We just got along really well, in my eyes. We stayed in contact. So yeah, not my girlfriend. As far as I know. Well, I guess I gotta ask her first, right?”

You almost fainted in your seat, and your chest almost burst in excitement. Leaning forward, with ragged breaths, you paused the video and scrolled down and read a few of the comments. Many congratulated Mark on finding a girl, others urged him to ask her properly, and there were a few who were sure their life was going to end because Mark was no longer single.

You glanced at the clock again. 4:30pm. Almost time to go home. You were near enough convinced that Mark telling you about this video was a hint for you to go watch it, and that it was pretty much his proposal of ‘do you want to go out’?

As the large hand hit the twelve, you barely had time to say goodbye to Simon and Jake before you swept up your bag and almost ran out of the building. Rushing to your taxi, you bleated your address and sat back, heart racing.

\---------

By the time you had reached Mark’s home, you had calmed down a little - having replayed the video in your mind a few times. Replaying the reactions, too. The fact you were widely accepted as the mysterious woman in Mark’s life was enthralling and unbelievable - like a waking dream.

You gave the taxi driver a twenty and got out, wandering slowly up to the front door and letting yourself in. The house was quiet. Quietly, you set your bag down on the sofa and walked further into the house. All of the lights were off.

Gingerly, you made your way upstairs, moving through the hallways towards Mark’s room. All of the doors were shut, and lights were off up there, too.

“Mark?” You asked the air, and there was a muffled response from Mark’s room. A hiccup of surprise flooded you and instantly your thoughts turned to the worst - there’s someone in there with him, isn’t there. Frozen to the spot, you held your hands to your chest as the distant sound of rustling and quiet swearing came from his room. Your heart thudded away in your chest and your jaw clamped shut, from a mixture of anger and anticipation - but mainly the latter.

Suddenly, the handle to Mark’s room wrenched downwards and Mark stepped out into the hallway, quickly closing the door behind him before you had a chance to peek inside. He didn’t really look like he had just hastily gotten himself dressed, and he didn’t look like he was trying to cover any hickeys, and instantly you calmed down a little.

“You’re home,” the oblivious man breathed, and he stepped forward, swooping you into a deep hug. Your worries quickly faded as you melted into his embrace, feeling his warmth quickly envelop you, and his deep voice reverberated against you, “I missed you.”

Pulling away, you planted a small, almost uneasy kiss, on his cheek, “I missed you too.”

His toothy grin almost made you forget you were ever worrying about what was in his room, and the close quarters of your bodies made your senses flare - all of a sudden the smell of his cologne was all you needed, the sight of his gorgeous chocolate eyes mere inches from your own was all you needed to see, and the feeling of his hands firmly holding you against him was all you needed to feel. You just needed, no, wanted - him.

“I’ve got something for you,” he spoke, almost too quick for you to hear, and a childlike happiness overcame him, “but you’ve gotta close your eyes.”

Surprised, you nodded without a word, and he turned you to face the door. Even though you closed your eyes tightly, he placed his large, soft hands over your eyes, and gently coaxed you forward. You could feel his body gently bumping into you as you walked forward slowly. Eventually, your hands came in contact with his cold door, and you heard him reach to open it.

A cool rush of air met you as the door swung open, and Mark slowly removed his hands from your eyes, opting instead to letting them gently rest against your shoulders. He squeezed them enthusiastically, as you opened your eyes.

Before you, sat a cake, decorated with what looked like vanilla icing, in the shape of a heart. This was surprising enough, but what surprised you more was the sofa it was sitting on. It wasn’t there before, you were sure of it. You stepped forward, noticing a large bow that was planted on the fabric surface. Not only that, but the sofa was littered in blankets and extremely fluffy pillows. You turned on the spot and smiled at Mark, who was watching you expectantly.

“A sofa?” You asked, with a laugh, and he stammered into his explanation.

“I mean, well, I wanna spend more time with you. And I, well I record a lot, right? Um, this way, we can spend more time together. There’s somewhere for you to sit and be cosy whilst I edit, or record. Plus there’s a tv in here so you’re not confined to just your laptop.”

You smiled at him, and then glanced behind you.

“And… the cake?”

He sheepishly, folded his arms and leaned against the now closed door.

“That was just… an appreciation cake… for you.”

You raised an eyebrow, though you could feel your chest tighten excitedly, “an appreciation cake?”

“Yeah, because I, uh, appreciate you,” he blurted, turning a delicate shade of red, “and I like being with you. As in here. In the same house, I - uh -”

“Mark,” you spoke softly, and he snapped his attention back to you, “I saw your video.”

If a blue-haired tomato could be personified, then Mark would have been it, in that moment. He quickly had to find his footing, but then a smile gently crept onto his face and he bubbled up with laughter.

“You saw it,” he breathed, “so, so you saw that tweet, right?”

You nodded, “and I saw your response.”

He blinked at you, looking as if it was taking everything in his power to keep himself together.

“...and?”

Your heart did a few small flips, “I think we’d go together like bread and butter.”

His face lit up, “or like cookies and milk?”

You shrugged, “maybe more like batman and robin, actually,” you softened your voice slightly, motioning to the sofa and cake, “thank you for this, Mark.”

He gently looped a hand around your waist and pulled you against his chest, planting a long kiss against your forehead. He pulled away with a smile, using his spare hand to brush some hair out of your eye.

“Thank you, [y/n].”

\----

(Don't worry. This ain't the end.)


	24. Twenty-Four

        When you finally stirred from your slumber the next morning, you blinked at the ceiling and waited for the pull of sleep to slip away from you. Your breathing was slow and calm, and you felt ultimately refreshed. The room was a comfortable temperature, and the quilt was pulled up tight against your neck.

        You rolled your head and looked to the left, and then did the same and looked to the right. A sigh escaped your lips, as well as the nervous butterflies that you had all but welcomed into your life. Your chest tightened.

        It had been a total of one day since Mark had not-so-subtly asked you to be his girlfriend, and your mind was a whole lot of mess. On one hand, your were happy. So unbelievably happy that you didn’t know what to say when he looked at you. But, on the other hand, what would happen when you inevitably had to go back home? You couldn’t possibly just… live in Mark’s house forever. Not to mention, he’s got housemates, who would be home any day now.

        You were lying in your bed, wishing you weren’t feeling as nervous as you were, trying not to let emotions get to you. You still hadn’t slept in the same bed as the honey-voiced man; though the desire to was very exhilarating. The very thought of you curling up against him, body warmth shared, skin against skin, made you almost shudder with anticipation.

        Eventually, you sat up, and checked the time on your phone. 9:00am on the dot. A fairly reasonable time to get up and ready. Luckily, work was off for the next few days due to roadworks which disrupted the internet line - actually, it came at a pretty lucky time, as you now had a few days to get used to be in a relationship with this man.

        As you were getting ready, your phone vibrated a few times against the neat bed sheets.

-

From: Mother Dearest

Hello hunny, just wanted to check up on my little girl. How is being over the pond treating you? x

-

        You smiled as you typed out your response.

-

To: Mother Dearest

Hi mama. Things are going great, thank you! Work is going well and so is living with Mark. also we maaaay or may not be official :-) xx

-

        Just typing that out made your chest do flutter all over again, and you had to let out a shaky sigh in order to get it to back down. Quickly pulling on some socks, you stepped out into the hallway whilst slipping your phone into your pocket.

Mark's bedroom door was wide open, and from where you stood, you could see the bed was made and tidy, which meant he was already up.

        As you walked downstairs, there was a small whine and then the rushed clicking of claws against laminate, and you reached the bottom, only to be bombarded with the fluffy body of Chica, who made no attempt to stop licking your face. With a laugh, you tried to aim her muzzle elsewhere with your hand, but found your face still got covered in her slobber. You gently lowered her front paws back agianst the ground and squinted your eyes.

        “Gross, Chica,” you said, though you found yourself laughing, “now I gotta wash my face.”

        Squinting, as not to let your eyes fall burden to the smelly slobber of the happy dog, you held your hands out and followed your hazy sight towards the kitchen roll which sat beside the cooker on the other side of the room.

        It didn’t take long for you hands to come in contact with something - but it sure as hell wasn’t kitchen roll. You squeezed gently with your fingertips, and opened an eye carefully, only to see Mark standing before you. Your hands were pressed against his warm chest. You were about to mumble your apology, and pull your hands away, but the sight of Mark smiling from ear to ear, teeth shining and eyes glowing, made you pause.

        Of course, that small feeling of wonder was torn away, as mark pressed a sheet of kitchen towel against your face and began cleaning it vigorously, all the while you called out and he laughed almost maniacally.

        As he revealed your slobber-less face you let your arms cave against him and enveloped him in a hug, and you both laughed against one another.

        “I see you met Chica,” he spoke into your hair and you nodded against him with a smile - even though he couldn’t see it.

        “I was going to ask where she was,” you replied, “I assumed she was staying with a family member.”

        Mark pulled away from you and quickly planted a kiss on your forehead, which left you frozen and dumbfounded, as he nonchalantly turned around and had a quick browse through the cereal cupboard.

        “You assume right,” he spoke, voice singsong. Chica then appeared between your legs with a panting smile, and you giggled as you tried to step over her.

        Mark hadn’t mentioned Chica that many times to you, though you do remember when he sent you a picture of her the day he brought her home, in the time between the gaming event and you arriving here, when you still lived overseas and he was at home. It was nice to finally get to meet her.

        “She’s so… gorgeous,” you spoke, mesmerised by the dog as she pranced around your feet, throwing glances at the refridgerator.

        Mark stopped what he was doing and looked over his shoulder at you, raising his eyebrow. Your eyes met his.

        “You know who else is... gorgeous?” He asked, and a small smile began at the corner of your lips, “...me!”

        With that, he hopped around on the spot and sauntered past you, chuckling all the while. You spun on the spot and watched him flop onto the sofa, letting Chica jump up onto his lap and kiss him, all across his face. You grumbled, albeit with a smile, and moved to go sit beside him.

        “So,” you asked, watching as the man bonded with his dog, “what are the plans for today?”

        He shrugged, “could put that sofa to good use?”

        This time, it was your turn to raise an eyebrow.

        He jabbed you gently with an elbow, and then hooked his arm around your neck, leaning back and pulling you against his chest. Chica whined as she was forced off the sofa, curling up on the floor and looking back up at Mark expectantly. You gingerly let your arms wrap around him. What on Earth was he going to suggest?

        “...What do you mean?” You breathed against him, his mouth inches from yours.

        “Well, you can watch me make a video, of course!” He bleated, oblivious to the way he made your heart almost explode from within your chest. Your rolled your eyes and let your head fall against his chest - the sound of his steady heart beat resonating in your ears.


	25. Chapter 25

        Mark was so efficient. He had already recorded enough content for three whole videos, and it had only been two hours. You watched in amazement as he spoke animatedly at the camera - at his fans - without even breaking a sweat. Every now and then, however, he threw you a glance, and a smile would break out across your face. Everything was good.

        Whilst Mark was distracted, you laid back against your sofa and let out a long sigh, only to feel your phone vibrate against your hip. Fishing it from your pocket, you lazily checked the message.

 

-  
From: unknown number

go home.  
-

 

        You bit your lip, more confused than anything. The first thoughts that came to mind were of that girl, from all those months back at Eurogamer, and then again in the nightclub, and also from Mark’s tweets. You were quick to dismiss those thoughts, thinking it would be absurd for her to have found your mobile number.

        You replied with steady hands.

 

-  
To: unknown number

Sorry, who is this? I think you have the wrong number  
-

 

-  
From: unknown number

Ur at marks house right now, aren’t u. U wont be for long  
-

 

        A lump formed in your throat.

        “Uh, Mark?” You said, but your voice was quiet and stuck in the depths of your nervousness. You had to clear your throat to speak louder, “Mark?”

        He looked at you and paused the game, interest spreading across his features. You let your eyes drape across his face for a few moments, before you turned the phone around in your hands and held it up to him, so he could read the messages.

        You watched as his expression fell with each passing second.

        “Shit,” he cursed, averting his eyes.

        “Yeah, shit,” you responded, but he had already started speaking again.

        “I should have told you,” he bleated, worry pouring into his features, “but that girl from Eurogamer, remember her? I tried to ignore her on purpose. But... she’s freaking insane.”

        Now, you were interested. Definitely. You shuffled closer, raising your eyebrows at the man with colourful hair, and he took that as his cue to continue.

        “I’ve had her messaging me and try to get ahold of me for years now. I’ve usually just cut her down and be curt, or you know, not replied at all, but she never let up. I saw her for the first time at Pax, last year, and for the second time back at Eurogamer,” he raised an arm and stretched as he spoke, “I didn’t really think anything of it, but she’s been… tweeting me more often now that she knows that we…. Well.”

        He blushed and looked away, and you smiled at him, shuffling a little more towards him and placing a hand on his leg. His eyes flicked up to yours, chocolate irises melting your core. A shuddery sigh left your lips and you tried to regain a sense of confidence.

        “You’ll be fine,” you spoke, voice low, “I’m here, remember? I’m not gonna let some weirdo get to you.”

        Throwing his head back with a chuckle, he placed a hand on yours and shone at you with his goofy smile, “I know that. And that’s why I’m glad you’re here.”

        Smiles were short lived, as concern slowly entered his persona again.

        “I’m just worried. I’m worried that now she thinks she has an actual threat, she’ll do something insane. I mean, Christ, she managed to find your mobile number, didn’t she? When it was just me, I didn’t worry too much, as you do get some full on people sometimes. But now you’re here, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

        Your chest thumped away with happiness, excitement, and worry all rolled up together, and you gave his thigh a quick squeeze, watching as a smile spread across his face once again.

        “I won’t get hurt,” you spoke softly, and he blinked at you with a dumbfounded expression.

        “Come here,” he said quietly, voice low and distinct, after a few seconds of silence. He pulled you to your feet, and gently slid his arms around your waist, holding you tightly against his chest.

        You’ve hugged him before, obviously, but something about this embrace was different. His fingers were more delicate against you and his arms held you with more meaning. His exhales were ones of relief, and he ever-so-slightly pulled you up against him, letting you bury your face into his neck. He gently adjusted his hands around you as you both settled into the embrace.

        There were unbridled emotions in this hug. You were both alone in his home, and he wasn’t being stared at by thousands of fans. There were no housemates to burst in and bother you. Nobody. And so, he held onto you and you him, without fear of anything in the world.

        He pulled away slightly, and then planted a long and meaningful kiss against your lips. With a swift inhale through your nose, you squeeze him tighter and kissed him harder, pressing your body against him.

        As you pulled away, your heart was warmed to the sight of him grinning from ear to ear.

        “I’m not so worried, now,” he breathed, and you smiled, resting your head against him. His long breaths were brushing gently against your neck, “not now that you’re here.”

        Without saying another word, he tilted your head back into his hand, and kissed you again.

***

 

_

From: creepy stalker girl

U better not be with him.  
-  
       

        You had renamed her to something more... recognisable, on your phone.

        “Just ignore her,” Mark mumbled, finger tracing circles against your arm.

        You squeezed at his waist, and gently rested your head against his shoulder as you both walked arm in arm through the beach of Santa Monica. With a small smile, you pushed your phone down into your pocket with a spare hand, and tried to not think about it. Just concentrate on Mark.

        The sun was hot, warming your skin and most likely brightening your hair a few shades. Mark was donning a pair of extremely shaded sunglasses, with cheeky grin making up the tanned face you were so enamoured with. His flannel shirt was unbuttoned slightly, and rolled up at the sleeves.

        “Feel like going on the ferris wheel?” He asked casually, motioning towards pier at the end of the stretch of beach, “we’ll get some great views, could take a few pictures to send back to your family.”

        You smiled, “great idea! They’re going to be so jealous of the lovely weather here.”

        As you walked together, a small group of guys approached, and you recognised their nervous demeanour and excited expressions - they were meeting their idol. You took a few steps back and watched as Mark greeted them and signed a few things, just as happy to meet them as they were to meet him. They spoke animatedly for a few minutes.

        There was a gasp behind you, and you turned on the spot, to see nobody. Or at least, nobody who was gasping at you. Holiday go-ers and locals alike were mingling and walking, some barefoot, some dressed, some with beach gear, others with none. You frowned and turned back to watch Mark, only to be surprised to hear a voice right behind you.

        “Bitch!”

        You turned on the spot again, and there was nobody there, despite the voice being loud in your ears. You knew that voice. Fear filled you, and you shuffled to Mark’s side, clinging to him, on the verge of blurting out to him what had just happened.

        “Is this your new girlfriend?” One of the fans asked, looking at you. You tried to smile, but Mark noticed your fear, and he sure as hell could feel your fingers digging into his arm.

        “Yeah she is,” Mark answered for you, before looking at the group, “I’m sorry guys, we have somewhere to be. Hope you have a great day!”

        Mark quickly hustled you away from the group, and took you into a swimming costume changing tent, pulling the curtain across and shrouding you both in a deep red and orange light. Some wolf whistles from outside confirmed that the group of guys had spotted you both enter the tent, probably thinking you were both going to be getting up to something dirty. You still clung to his arms.

        “Damn,” Mark said, scolding himself with a short laugh, “I probably could have thought of somewhere better to have a private conversation.”

        “Mark, it was her,” you spoke quickly, shaking, “I heard her. She’s here.”

        He held you by the shoulders and squeezed reassuringly, before drawing you into a hug and kissing you over and over on the crown of your head.

        “If she is, you’ve nothing to worry about,” he said, between kisses, “nothing at all, because you’re with me.”

        “Thank you,” you breathed into his chest, trying to keep the tears at bay.

        “Now,” he said, taking a step back and looking you in the eye with a small smile, “let’s get to that ferris wheel, no more distractions.”

        You nodded, feeling better already, “okay. Let’s go.”

**Author's Note:**

> ♥


End file.
